


Me and the Devil // CAOS FANFICTION

by Peppermintxcrazy



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Family, LGBT, Love, Lust, Multi, OFC - Freeform, Romance, caos, norse witchcraft, witches from out of town
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2019-08-19 22:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16543943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermintxcrazy/pseuds/Peppermintxcrazy
Summary: Sabrina Spellman believes that she knows a fair amount about the life of a witch. However, she's never met witches like these before. Norwegian sisters Helheim Lopstrsdotter and Sigrún Parker are unlike anyone she's ever met before, their traditions and witch culture different from what she is accustomed to. However, it is not just their ways that makes Sabrina nervous. A spate of killings has been taking over Greendale and the neighbouring towns and she believes she knows who the culprits are. However, when the truth comes out, she will realize that she is part of something much bigger than she ever could have believed, and not even the Dark Lord would be able to save them all from a power like this...





	1. Prologue // The Winter Witch

While the coven interacted with one another within the warmth of the church, the winter witch had disappeared out into the snow.

Wrapped in black furs and thick leather boots, she trudged through the forest, hands uncovered and open to the elements. In one blotched-red hand she clasped a smudge of burning myrrh, the other a picture. Soft words fell from her lips in a tremble, disappearing with the cold wind that swept past her pale cheeks. Walking behind her, nose lifted to the sky as he sniffed the night, was a wolf. Together the pair ventured deeper into the forest, losing sight of the church and the voices that rose and fell within, until they made it to a clearing surrounded by stones.

Still whispering, the winter witch picked up a stick that lay half hidden in the fresh snow and began to carve into it, the wolf watching from a short distance away. Every line and curve was met with another, growing in size and shape until it took up a large majority of the clearing within the stones. The pentagram was done, the myrrh lying in the middle along with the picture. There was only one thing left to do.

A gleaming knife, a gasp of pain, and suddenly fresh, warm blood was pouring down the winter witch's arm. She cupped her hand, allowing the blood to spill down into it, before she began marking each stone with a different rune, her foreign words growing in volume to fight the rising winds.

"A night of tricks, a night of revelry, a night of spells, this dark night Seatere," she called, the stones freezing beneath her fingertips. "Where the ocean burns and trees drown, come, bring her to me..." 

The winter witch, now standing in the middle of the pentagram with arms outstretched, closed her eyes and whispered the last word.

"Loki."

A howling, growling storm of noise rose within the clearing, and the lines of the pentagram brightened and filled with blood. Breathing heavily, the winter witch tilted her head back and smiled as the Dark Lord opened her eyes to Hel. 

**//**


	2. [ME AND THE DEVIL]

_**[ME AND THE DEVIL // A CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA FANFICTION]  ** _

  

 

_ **[CAST]** _

 

_**Anya Taylor-Joy as S igrún Parker ** _

_**Alexandra Daddario as Helheim Lopstrsdotter** _

_**Lorde as Ragna Lopstrsdotter** _

_**Mads Mikkelsen as Loptr Larsson** _

_**Eva Green as Rowena Parker** _

_**CAOS Cast as Their Respective Characters** _

 

_ **[PLAYLIST]** _

_**\- If I Had A Heart // Fever Ray -** Me And The Devil // Soap&Skin  **\- Take Me To Church // Hozier -** Way Out There // Lord Huron  **\- Toxic // Yael Naim -** Tesselate // alt-J  **\- Volcano // Damien Rice -** The Killing Moon // Echo & the Bunnymen  **\- Werewolf Heart // Dead Man's Bones -** It Will Come Back // Hozier  **\- Dark Side // Bishop Briggs -** Hearing Damage // Thom Yorke  **\- When The Night Is Over // Lord Huron -** A Little Death // The Neighbourhood  **\- Eyes On Fire // Blue Foundation -**_ _Special Death // Mirah **\- Venus In Furs // The Velvet Underground -** bad guy // Billie Eilish -_

 

 

_"Unholy creature... such sinful skin..."_

_"Would you like a taste?"_

__

_** [Something wicked this way comes...]  
** _


	3. Part One // O Death

It was the end of winter and yet Greendale had never felt colder. There was something lingering in the air, perhaps left over from the storm that had passed through only a week earlier. Whatever it was, its cold touch left no surface of the town free from its imprint, be it sidewalks, homes, or the people who lived there. They had never experienced a cold like this before. 

 _They_  had, though, and driving into the town felt like they were driving back into a past life. It was chilling, the thought, but neither girl felt cold.

"Are you sure this is the place?" The older woman asked in a foreign language, looking at her sister who sat in the passenger seat gazing out the window towards the trees that lined the road. "It doesn't seem like the type of place we would ever settle in-"

"It is," the younger woman replied, ignoring the hissing replies coming from her sister's familiar in the backseat. "I know this road. I've seen it before."

Blue eyes filled with concern, the older woman only shook her head as she turned away from the younger, directing her gaze back towards the road.

"Do you think this is it, then? Is it over?" She asked. Receiving no answer the older woman frowned, glancing over to her sister quickly. "Sigrún?"

"It is," Sigrún answered after a brief moment, her maroon eyes turning towards her sister who looked back at them. They were always a mysterious storm that she could never understand. However, she found the sight of them always comforting. "This is it, Helheim. This is where it all begins again. I'm sure of it."

Smiling, the two sisters fixed their eyes on the sign that welcomed them into the town and the start of their new lives.

**//**


	4. One // An Introduction

** One Month Later **

Helheim Loptrsdotter had never been the type to worry, and yet she found herself doing exactly that at work. Wiping down the coffee machine at Cerberus Books, the young woman let out a small sigh, catching sight of herself in its reflection. While on the outside she looked relatively fine - there were no dark circles under her blue eyes, no wrinkles on her skin, no dry lips - she felt sick to her stomach. 

It wasn't the town. True, Greendale felt a little less human than a majority of other towns or cities they had lived in, but it was nice. So far, Helheim hadn't found anything wrong with the place. She quite liked it, with it's quaint little cafes slash bookstores, the local high school nearby, and a small selection of shops that she loved exploring. It was like something out of a fairy tale, the surrounding forest giving it even more of a fictional world vibe. Usually, she'd be turned off by that sort of thing in a town, but not here. Greendale needed this feeling in order for it to feel natural, she thought. Without it and the town would seem a little too shady, like it was hiding something. Greendale was good. She wasn't worried about it. 

She wasn't worried about the people, either. Working at the bookstore allowed her to meet a majority of them, and every person she had met so far had been lovely. Many of them she only knew by face, but some she had managed to learn by name. There was Dr. Cerberus, the owner of the bookstore who Helheim found to be charming if a little odd. Then there was Hilda, a lovely older woman who Helheim would cover whenever she had to go sort something out at her family business, the Spellman mortuary. They were wonderful people who had welcomed Helheim into Greendale with open arms. They were good. She wasn't worried about them.

It was her sister that made her feel this way. It was always her sister who worried her, in truth, however this time it felt different.

"Such a shame."

"Hmm?" Helheim blinked, looking up at Dr. Cerberus who was leaning against the counter beside her, reading the newspaper. He showed the front cover to her with a frown, the headline "RIVERDALE BOY FOUND DEAD" screaming at her black and bold.

"He's the second one this month. Honestly, with all the deaths plaguing Riverdale recently you'd think the town was cursed," he continued, turning around when he heard a customor call his name. Leaving the paper on the counter Helheim stood over it, thin lines appearing across her forehead. 

"Something on your mind, love?"

Hilda had only known her for three weeks and yet she always knew when something was plaguing her thoughts. Helheim turned around and smiled at her, shaking her head.

"Oh, nothing, Hilda. It's nothing."

"Are you sure?" Hilda asked, a comforting smile on her face. "We can talk about it if you like."

Helheim hesitated slightly, looking away from Hilda. She was a private person, she had been for many years now, yet this seemed to be an issue that could only be resolved with public help. Looking back up at Hilda, Helheim spoke.

"It's my sister."

"Ah, the infamous Sigrún," Hilda chuckled, making Helheim smile weakly. While Hilda had never met the younger sister of Helheim, she had heard mention of her every now and again. From what her sister had spoken of her, Sigrún was a bright woman who just didn't seem all that talkative. "Is she having trouble adjusting to Greendale?"

"Yes and no," Helheim replied before expanding on her mixed answer. "She has a job at the cinemas and from what I have heard she likes it and the people there like her too. It's just that she doesn't get out of the house much. I fear she may not be making friends and I'd like her to. A girl her age should."

"How old is she?" Hilda asked.

"Twenty. She'll be twenty-one soon," Helheim answered, and in her mind an image of a young girl flashed before her eyes, terrified. She looked away from Hilda, banishing the image from her mind as the older woman replied, not noticing her reaction.

"That's fairly close to my niece's age. Sabrina's sixteen," Hilda explained, an idea suddenly taking hold of her mind as she thought about the two young women. "I know, El. Why don't the two of you come over sometime this week? I could introduce her to Sabrina and maybe the pair can get to know one another."

"R-Really?" Helheim said, surprised by the offering. While her worries were slightly intensified by the idea of having dinner with Hilda and her family, she also couldn't help but feel soothed by it too.  _Another step towards normality._  "Would that be okay?"

"Of course! And I think your Sigrun could have a good impact on Sabrina. From what I've heard about her she's a happy young woman, isn't she? People in town like her," Hilda said, before lowering her voice and leaning in towards Helheim, several deep lines of worry appearing on her forehead as she spoke. "I think Sabrina needs a girl like her in her life at the moment."

"Well, maybe they can help each other," Helheim replied with a small smile. "I'd like that very much, Hilda."

"Great! Shall we say, saturday night? At seven?"

"I look forward to it."

"Fantastic," the older woman said before grabbing her bag. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then, dear. Duty calls."

"Bye, Hilda," Helheim called as the woman left with a smile, the door ringing on her way out. Helheim allowed herself a moment to breathe, leaning against the counter as she thought about Hilda, her family, Sigrún. She stopped on Sigrún, swallowing. She was certain that this was a good idea. It had to be.

**//**

Surprisingly, Sigrún had not argued against the dinner date that Helheim had told her about that night. Instead she had nodded, saying that she would do as Helheim asked given all the things Helheim had done for her, and the two had continued on discussing the rest of their day that evening.

In the Spellman household, however, Hilda had to put up a fight.

"Mortals? Hilda, I believe you have truly lost your mind," Zelda scolded when Hilda told her the plan that evening, Ambrose watching on in amusement.

"Oh, don't be unfair, Zelda. I think this could be a lot of fun!" Hilda argued, watching her sister walk over to the kitchen bench, pulling out a knife that made her heart jump. However, she turned it's use onto the carrots sitting on the chopping board nearby.

"You wish to have a dinner party with mortals? How in the world is that any fun?" Zelda asked before pausing. "Unless you mean to say that the mortals will  _be_  the dinner at this party, because if that's the case-"

"No! Zelda, no," Hilda exclaimed, rolling her eyes at her sister's sound of disgust. "El is a lovely young woman who is the sole caregiver for her sister who is having trouble making friends in town. I thought it would be a good idea for Sigrún to meet Sabrina. Maybe the pair could become friends-"

"Pardon me, aunty, but what makes you think Sabrina would want to be friends with this mortal girl?" Ambrose asked, lowering his voice despite the fact that his cousin wasn't currently in the house. "I mean, she hasn't spoken to her mortal friends from her old school."

"Well, that's the thing, Ambrose. I think that Sabrina needs mortal friends-"

"Oh, Hilda-"

"Hear me out," Hilda exclaimed, looking at both of them who were staring at her with sceptical eyes. Thankfully, they obligied, one of Zelda's eyebrows raised in an arch. "Now, we all know that - since facing the thirteen - Sabrina hasn't exactly been herself, has she? And I don't just mean abandoning her mortal friends and attending the academy full time. I mean... well, she's not the Sabrina we used to know, is she?"

"I..I hear you, aunty," Ambrose said softly, nodding thoughtfully. It was true. It wasn't just her appearance that had changed since the thirteen but her personality as well. Since then, Sabrina had become far more distant, a little bit colder, as though she had pushed aside her mortality in favour of her witch heritage and new friends. It was an unspoken worry between all three of the family members, and even Zelda held a glint of concern in her usually hard stare. She frowned, looking at her younger sister.

"So you think this mortal could help Sabrina?" she asked.

"Well... yes, if I'm honest. I know that we will probably never get our Sabrina back since she signed the Book of the Beast, but that could be a good thing. She's a new person, Sigrún is a new person, they might get along. There's no pressure for either person to be who they used to be," Hilda explained. "It's a fresh start for both of them. And, I think Sigrún could be that mortal link Sabrina needs, a kind of anchor to a part of her that she shouldn't be trying to ignore."

For a moment Zelda didn't respond, and Hilda almost allowed herself to lose hope over her proposed dinner plan. However, putting the chopped carrots into a pot the older sister turned around and nodded, arms crossed.

"Okay then. Friday night when Sabrina returns from the academy, we'll have this dinner party," she said. "For Sabrina's sake."

"And Sigrún's," Hilda added, but Zelda rolled her eyes, turning back towards the pot that Ambrose eyed carefully.

"Are you making dinner, aunty Zee?"

"I'm making soup," she replied.

"For dinner?"

"No," she replied, hesitating slightly as she added water to the mixture, catching her sister's knowing eyes. She swallowed, turning her gaze away. "For a different purpose."

"What-" 

"Ambrose! You can tell Sabrina that we'll have company on Friday night when you head over to the academy tomorrow, won't you?" Hilda interrupted with a bright smile, stealing her nephew's attention away from Zelda.

"Oh, um, of course, aunty."

"Great!" She exclaimed, letting out a little laugh as she stood up, beginning to head out of the kitchen. "A dinner party. Friday. With mortals! So exciting!"

**//**

"You look excited."

Helheim smiled, smoothing her dark blue dress as the two siblings walked up the road towards the Spellman house, an old, gothic looking thing that made her feel quite at ease. Beside her and wearing a silk emerald shirt tucked into black jeans was Sigrún, who was staring at her sister curiously.

"Hilda is lovely," Helheim told the younger woman as they made their way up the stairs. "I'm happy. We're making connections here, Siggy. You were right when you said this is the place."

Her sister did not answer, instead smiling slightly at Helheim before stepping forward and ringing the doorbell. A few seconds later and the pair were greeted by Hilda, who welcomed the two sisters into the house before closing the door behind them.

"And you must be Sigrún! I've heard a lot about you," Hilda exclaimed, shaking the younger woman's hand. It was easy to see the sister connection between the two: both were tall, both had wavy brown hair, both had smooth, clear, alabastor skin. However, where El seemed to exert a ray of positivity around her, there was a simmering unknown aura that surrounded Sigrún. To Hilda, Sigrún was the night to El's day. It reminded her of herself and Zelda, and she couldn't help but twitch slightly at the thought while she stared at Sigrún. 

"Aunty? Are those our guests?"

The two sisters looked past Hilda, catching sight of a young and incredibly handsome man walking down the stairs towards them. He had a smile on his face that was warm and inviting, yet Helheim thought she noticed a playfulness to it that she quite liked. She shook his hand when he approached her, introducing herself to the man who called himself Ambrose. Her sister followed her lead.

"Ambrose, dear, could you lead El and Sigrún to the dining room? Zelda should be in there already."

Zelda did not think too much of the sisters when they walked in, Ambrose introducing them to his colder aunt. El reminded her of a mortal version of Hilda except younger and more innocent. Sigrún, however, seemed as though she was still going through her own stage of teenage angst. She was quiet, soft spoken when she did speak, and had a nervous disposition that edged on paranioa. She wondered what made the girl's sharp maroon eyes flicker so. 

Now the group of four were sitting together, Hilda serving each person, when the final member of the dinner party entered the room wearing a red dress with a lace collar, her short white-blonde hair pushed back with a dark ribbon.

"Sorry I'm late, aunties," the young woman said, stopping when she caught sight of their guests.

When she caught sight of Sigrún.

Who - as soon as her eyes had landed on the niece of her hosts - had quickly jumped out of her seat as though she had been electrocuted, and she had to stop herself from throwing herself across the table towards her. In her head, she heard a voice whisper, turning her stomach inside out, but she held her composure. Gently nudging Helheim with her foot, the other sister stood also, and the pair walked over to the woman.

"You must be Sabrina," Helheim said, shaking hands with her. "It's lovely to finally meet you. I'm El, I work with your aunt Hilda at the bookstore."

"It's nice to meet you too," Sabrina replied, looking across at the other woman beside El. There was something about her that made Sabrina feel odd, however she did not know if that was in a good or bad way. All she knew was that the woman was standing in front of her now, long hand outstretched, and when Sabrina took hold of it she felt a coldness seep through her that hadn't been present before.

"Sigrún," the woman said simply.

"I-I'm Sabrina," she stammered. The woman smiled slowly. Where Sabrina may have felt coldness in her touch, all Sigrún could feel was a warmth like fire.  _Here_ , a voice murmured in her head.  _Here is your answer._

"Sabrina," Sigrún repeated, and her tongue rolled the name in her mouth as though it was always supposed to be there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First official chapter is here, my lovelies! Apologises for the delay and length - had to get the formalities out of the way because after this the action comes through thick and fast.


	5. Two || Flower

After a feast that the gods would have been envious of, the two sisters had left the Spellman house, disappearing into the dark as Hilda waved them off. Coming back inside to where the other three were doing the last of the cleaning up, Hilda smiled brightly at them.

"They're nice, aren't they?" She beamed, glad that the evening had been a success. Zelda shrugged nonchalantly, lighting herself a cigarette.

"I suppose they're bearable, for mortals," she replied, making Ambrose chuckle, affectionately patting his aunt's arm as he walked past.

"Come now, aunty, they were great. Both very intelligent women-" he said before cutting off, a small glint in his dark eyes as his lips pulled up in a small smile. "And that El is a beauty to behold if I do say so myself."

Hilda giggled at her nephew's comment, putting away the leftover dessert. While both sisters had conversations with everyone at the table, Hilda had noticed that El and Ambrose seemed to share a love for history, both discussing subjects that ranged from vikings to art movements in France to the many wars that had occurred in the world. She was glad to see that Ambrose was making a friend who could help to stimulate his mind - recently he had been acting so odd and even a little hesitant when it came to subjects surrounding the academy. All of that didn't seem to exist tonight, so she was glad that El had managed to take that off his mind.

 _Speaking of_ , Hilda thought, turning her attention to her niece who was sitting at the table, eyes staring into the distance.  

"Sabrina? What about you?" She asked, catching the young woman's attention who looked up at her in confusion.

"What about me?"

"Did you like Sigrun?" Hilda said. "You two spoke with one another a few times throughout the evening."

"I-I guess," Sabrina murmured, making a slight face. "I mean, she's nice, but... She seems a little bit weird."

"Weird?" Hilda echoed, tilting her head to the side. Sabrina nodded, thinking about that evening. While the two woman had been able to carry a conversation between them, there was something about Sigrun that made Sabrina feel uneasy. She didn't know if that was a good or bad feeling - she had never felt anything like that before. But it was new, unfamiliar, and confusing as hell for the younger woman. Sigrun's eyes never seemed to leave hers, and part of Sabrina thought that - while creepy - it wasn't a bad thing.  _She does have very captivating maroon eyes_ , Sabrina thought with a little sigh that sounded a little too dreamy when it left her lips. None of the others seemed to notice, though, with Zelda speaking.

"Well, they are Norwegian," she said, as though it were a common fact that Norwegians are all little odd.

"Exactly, and they are new to town," Hilda agreed. "Sigrun's probably still trying to get used to the place. You should see her more often, Sabrina. Help her fit in."

"Maybe," Sabrina murmured, the taller woman etched inside her mind. She frowned, shaking Sigrun out of her head before standing. "I'm going to go to bed now. I'll see you all in the morning."

A chorus of "good night's" followed Sabrina out of the room, the adults watching the younger girl leave with worried eyes that she did not see. Zelda sighed, flicking off a bit of ash from the end of her cigarette.

"Well that didn't go to plan."

"Give her some time, Zelda," Hilda replied, still looking in the same direction that Sabrina had just left in. "Maybe she'll warm up to Sigrun after a while."

They could only hope.

**//**

A week later Sabrina was walking through the forest, satchel hanging off one shoulder and bumping against her hip. It was a little heavy, her readings for this weekend higher than usual due to the midterm tests that were coming up. She had been invited to stay over for the weekened with the weird sisters, however she had not felt like it this time. In fact, the only desire she had today was to stroll through the forest and take the long way home. 

The forest had her feeling like she was waiting for something to happen.

"Sabrina."

Jumping slightly, the young witch spun around to find the source of the voice. Standing a few feet away and wearing a long tan dress was Sigrún, her dark blue eyes focused on her, a little smile on her face.

"Oh, Sigrún, hi," Sabrina said, looking around. Was this the thing that was supposed to happen? She was unsure, but the feeling from before had passed. "What are you doing out here?"

"Exploring," the young woman replied, making her way over to Sabrina where the pair began to walk together. "The forests remind me of my home."

"Norway?"

"Yes," Sigrún replied, her usually sharp features softening at the thought of her home. Sabrina tilted her head slightly, looking up at the taller girl. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes that made Sabrina want to touch her arm and comfort her. Instead, she held the strap of her satchel tight, asking a question instead.

"Why did you and your sister come to America?"

"The same reason why many people come to America: to have a better life. Or, at least, have the hope for a better life," Sigrún said, running a hand across the leaves of a tree as they walked, letting out a little sigh at the thought of Norway. "I miss my home country, but I do not miss the things that made my sister and I leave in the first place. While they remain, we cannot go back."

"So is it just you two? No parents?" Sabrina asked. Sigrún frowned at the question, hesitation crossing over her features before she replied.

"No parents," she murmured, looking at Sabrina. "Is... Is that the same for you? We didn't see them the other night-"

"Oh, they..." Sabrina trailed off, the thought of her parents making her look away from Sigrún. "They died in a plane crash when I was a baby."

"I'm sorry," Sigrún said softly, the younger woman shrugging slightly, looking back up at her with a small smile. She didn't want to put a damper on the conversation, and Sigrún seemed to pick up on this because she continued. "You have a good family from what I've seen, though, and friends, I am sure."

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess," Sabrina replied with another little shrug.

"You guess?" At that Sigrún raised a sharp eyebrow, looking down at the shorter woman. Sabrina swallowed, looking away in slight guilt.

"I haven't spoken to them in awhile. I changed schools recently so things are a bit... different. But my new friends are okay," she lied. In truth, she still didn't feel as though she belonged at the academy with the weird sisters. While Prudence was bearable, Dorcas was still cold towards her, Agatha even worse (she hadn't forgotten the time when Sabrina has slit her throat). She missed Ros and Suzie, and Harvey. Especially Harvey. They hadn't even had a chance to really work through everything that had happened between them when Sabrina left Baxter high. But she was different now, and it would be too dangerous for Sabrina to get them involved with her life. "But what about you, Sigrún? Have you managed to make any friends since moving into Greendale?"

"I'm unsure," Sigrún replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I would say I don't have any but I'm hoping that I am wrong. That perhaps, I have one?" The pair stopped walking, both of them looking at one another. Again, Sabrina felt that wave of unease pass over her, but it reminded her of the time she and her old friends had gone to a fairground out of town and had gone on the rollercoaster. Unease over the unknown, excitement a seed in her stomach. She smiled up at the older woman who was looking at her with a hopeful expression.

"Of course, Sigrún," she replied. Since starting the academy, she hadn't felt comfortable anywhere. But now, her earlier fears about Sigrún were passing. Yes, she was a little odd, but still, the most comforting person she had been surrounded by since she left her old friends. All it had taken was a walk in the woods. 

"This is where I leave you," Sigrún said, looking past Sabrina who turned around. In the distance between the gaps in the trees was a dark green house, easily blending with the trees. 

"Is that your home?"

"A house. Where El and I live. We'll see if it ever becomes a home," Sigrún answered when Sabrina turned back around to her. Sabrina smiled softly. She could understand what Sigrún meant, knowing herself how hard it was to fit in somewhere.

"Well, I'll probably see you around," Sabrina said to which Sigrún nodded, walking past and turning around so she could catch sight of the young woman again. 

"Ha det, Sabrina Spellman," she murmured in a soft voice before disappearing amongst the trees, leaving Sabrina listening to the echo of her voice.

**//**


	6. Three // The Body In The Woods

The house was quiet when she entered. Sabrina had expected it, of course. Aunt Hilda would be at Cerebus' book shop while earlier on the young witch had seen her other aunt at the academy. However, she was not alone. Tilting her head slightly she saw that the door leading down to the morgue was slightly ajar, soft music rising from beneath the floor of the house. Dumping her bag in the kitchen and taking an apple from the counter, Sabrina walked towards it.

"Ambrose?" She made her way down the steps and into the morgue where she found her cousin busy over a corpse, too preoccupied to greet her in the same manner. She sat on the steps and watched as he finished digging inside the body before backing away, pulling off his gloves and masks with a grim look on his face.

"It's the third one in the area," he told her, shaking his head as he chucked his things onto the tray. They clattered loudly against the other pieces of equipment that sat on the tray, splashes of blood falling onto the messy floor below. Sabrina peered past the tray and towards the body that lay on the table. Ignoring the fact that his chest cavity had been opened up, he looked rather normal. His pale face was calm, peaceful, his lips slightly blue with death. Sabrina did not think his death had been very peaceful, though. The wounds around his neck did not look like Ambrose's work.

"Where did they find him?" She asked her cousin as he took a seat below her, glancing over at the corpse.

"In the forest not too far away from here. A Riverdale boy, but the parents want him prepared here to get it done faster."

"How did he die?" There was no need for Sabrina to really ask that question, she was pretty sure she already had the answer.

"Animal bite. Throat's been ripped out," Ambrose answered. Sabrina frowned, puzzled as she tilted her head and gazed at the boy's missing throat. It was a horrific wound - the funeral would definitely be closed casket - but for an animal to do it? It just didn't seem possible.

"What kind of animal around here would do something like that?" She asked, looking back at Ambrose. "Do we even have any that could?"

"Sometimes unchosen familiars may get a hunger for humans, but most of the time they stick to animals or plants, whatever takes their fancy," Ambrose said, standing up  and going over to the basin to clean his hands.

"So it  _was_  a familiar," Sabrina stressed, eyebrow raised. She looked down at Salem who only stared back up at her unimpressed by the whole situation.

"Could be, and a very hungry one at that. I've never seen anything like it in Greendale," Ambrose replied, before adding in a low voice to himself, "I'll have to let the aunties know, they might want to stay on guard in case it happens again."

"Do you think it will?" 

"At this stage I'd be surprised if it didn't," Ambrose shrugged, drying his hands and taking off his apron. He paused for a moment as though in thought before turning around towards Sabrina, concern clear in his eyes. "Don't stray too far into the forest, Sabrina. Not during a time like this." 

"They were mortals, Ambrose," Sabrina said, unable to stop herself from snorting at the thought of something attacking her in the forest. She had faced much worse. "If it is a familiar then I'm sure I could handle myself."

"That's only an assumption. Odd things have been happening in Greendale of late, you don't need to be getting caught up in it too. Just be careful," Ambrose explained, an eyebrow raised at his cousin. For a moment Sabrina didn't reply. The thought was too absurd. She was a witch, she had powers, spells, that could protect her from whatever animal or familiar was out there killing mortals. However, she wasn't going to leave Ambrose unanswered. She stood up, brushing off her skirt as she looked down at him with a little smile.

"I will, cousin. Promise," she said. 

"Good," he replied, even giving her a quick smile of his own before tapping the staircase handrail. "Now come on, get upstairs. I haven't had lunch so Satan knows I'm starving."

"After seeing that?!" Sabrina exclaimed as she began walking upstairs, nodding down at the body below. Ambrose shrugged, following his cousin up the staircase before shooting her a cheeky grin.

"Builds up an appetite, that does," he teased, and Sabrina couldn't help but laugh at her cousin's morbid joke. At the top of the staircase Ambrose turned the lights off and closed the door behind them, leaving the body of the Riverdale boy alone in the morgue below.

//

She felt sick. Then again, she always felt sick nowadays.

Helheim sat at the kitchen table staring out the window. The forest trees loomed above them, covering the house from the last few rays of sunlight the day had gifted them. Now the shadows of the forest seemed to stretch and grow, fingers clawing their away over the house. Usually Helheim would never be nervous or worried about these kind of things - the house was protected, Greendale a simple and quiet town, and there was no way  _they_ had the power to hurt them now. Not when they were so far away. And yet, Helheim found herself feeling nervous as she stared outside, hands clutched tight around her tea. Any tighter and she -

"Going to work!"

Sigrun's voice made Helheim start so badly that she dropped her cup of tea, the whole thing spilling over the table before the cup fell to the ground and broke cleanly in two. Both sisters fell to their knees, attempting to clean it up at the same time, but eventually Helheim was able to shoo her sister's hands away.

"Work, you - you have work. Go ahead, I can clean this. Don't fret," Helheim said quickly, putting the pieces on the tabletop before standing and hurrying into the kitchen, her stomach churning at the stress. It did not go unnoticed. With a frown Sigrun straightened up, looking over at her sister who had gathered a damp cloth to clean the spill with.

"Are you all right?" She asked. The older sister nodded stiffly, smiling as best as she could at the younger.

"Fine, fine, just feeling a little ill is all," she said, making her way to the table and beginning to wipe it down. She hadn't done very much before the back of Sigrun's hand was on her forehead and she froze, turning slightly towards her younger sister who was looking at her with concern.

"You're a bit warm, Helheim. Do you want me to make you a herbal drink? I can call work, tell them I can't make it-"

"No!" Helheim said a little too quickly, shaking her head with a light laugh. "No, um, don't. It's just a little cold. Loki will heal me, you know how he cares for us."

"Yes. Praise be to our beloved Loki," Sigrun said with a smile, Helheim echoing the words behind her younger sister. Touching her sister's cheek gently Sigrun nodded, a sad smile on her face. "I'm sorry you are feeling unwell. I hope that by the time I get back tonight you will be feeling much better."

"I'm sure that I will be, Sigrun," Helheim replied, patting her sister's hand softly before pulling it away from her face. "If at any stage I do feel worse, I promise to call you. But until that happens, you must go. I will be fine."

With a small smile Sigrun nodded, kissing her taller sister's cheek before grabbing her bag and turning towards the door.

"I'll see you this evening. Get better soon, sister," Sigrun called on her way out, closing the door behind her. The house fell into silence and Helheim stayed where she stood, watching through the windows as Sigrun walked down the path and deeper into the forest. Her fingers clenched at the wet cloth in her hands, pulling at it over and over again until suddenly it tore, breaking Helheim's gaze. She stared down at the dirty cloth, looked at the loose fibers that reached up towards her, before looking back up at the window. In that short space of time, though, Sigrun had disappeared from view, leaving Helheim alone.

//


	7. Four // The Hunt

It wasn't ending.

Two weeks and three more people dead from animal attacks that - according to Ambrose and both of Sabrina's aunties - were not actually animal attacks. With both Greendale and Riverdale residents growing nervous with the deaths of each resident the family themselves were beginning to feel the same for a different reason. 

"I've heard people in town talking about getting a party together to hunt whatever this thing could be," Aunt Hilda told them one night at dinner. "They're scared it'll come into the town and attack even more people. They're talking about  _guns_."

"What is it with mortals and their love for guns? Obviously a gun isn't going to save you from this monster," Aunt Zelda said, flicking the ash off her cigarette. Sabrina frowned.

"But I thought it was a familiar committing these attacks. From what I've seen, familiar's can be killed by guns," Sabrina said. The aunties paused, sharing a look between each other that the teenager didn't miss. "What? Do... Do you think that it's  _not_  a familiar?"

Ambrose, who had been quiet during this time, spoke up.

"I think... I think that could be the case, cousin," he said solmenly.

"Ambrose-" Zelda began, but her nephew cut her off.

"I think Sabrina should know. She needs to keep herself protected and knowledge of these kinds of situations can help aid her if - Satan forbid - she stumbles across this creature," he argued. Although Zelda did not fight back, Sabrina could tell that her aunt was not pleased with her cousin's reasoning. Turning towards her Ambrose spoke.

"This doesn't happen often but... but it can. And we think it's happening now."

"What? What's happening now?" Sabrina asked. Leaning forward and clasping his hands Ambrose answered his cousin.

"We think that this might be a werewolf."

"What?!" Sabrina couldn't help but exclaim and pull back, an incredulously look on her face. She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity. "A werewolf? But those are myths! Like vampires-"

"Vampires are a myth, werewolves, however, are not," Zelda interrupted, before adding in a low voice, "However, it was thought that werewolves were near extinction."

"Near extinction? What, so they're hunted? Are - are they like us? Are they like the stories?" Sabrina asked. She had never heard of other mythical creatures existing. Of course, witches and warlocks were real, and so were familiars and ghosts and spells that were legit (personally, Sabrina found smudging and crystal packages insulting when connected with the witch name - they were obviously more sage that witchcraft, and don't even get her started on ouija boards), but  _werewolves?_  It didn't seem real.

"Werewolves have some similarities to the stories mortals tell each other, however there are some differences. For example, a werewolf doesn't need a full moon to turn, however that is when it is most powerful. Young werewolves will not be able to control the ability to change, but a mature one can and - if strong enough - can fight the wolf inside and never have to turn again. Also, a silver bullet won't kill it, but a stake through the heart will-"

"I thought-"

"Sometimes mortals get their stories mixed up," Hilda answered before Sabrina could ask, smiling kindly at her niece.

"Werewolves are made. The gene isn't hereditary, and while some people are able to control it and lead a normal life, other's can't. That's where it gets messy," Ambrose continued.

"And it did," Zelda added, pursing her lips. "Only mortals can be turned into a werewolf. If they are bitten and not killed by the werewolf, then they themselves will become werewolves. And as mortals are not strong beings to begin with, they struggle to control the wolf. Eventually they're running through their home towns on a full moon killing everything in it's path until it has been subdued."

"And... And subdued means-" Sabrina swallowed while Zelda looked at her and nodded firmly.

"Exactly."

"Well, what are we going to do? How do we stop it?" Sabrina asked, looking around the table at her family. 

"Well, I had suggested we get a party together and go hunt the creature ourselves," Ambrose began, before casting a glance over to Zelda who was glaring at him with a frown. "However, our darling aunty here would rather not get any other witches and warlocks involved."

"Oh," Sabrina said, raising an eyebrow at her aunty. "And that obviously means-"

"Faustus, yes, of course," Zelda snapped, rolling her eyes. "It's bad enough I'm mothering his child, I don't need him sniffing around here and finding that out."

"Considering you kidnapped the girl," Hilda murmured beneath her breath, making Zelda turn her sharp eyes on her sister, Ambrose and Sabrina sharing a cheeky smile with one another. It was a great pleasure of theirs to tease Zelda for her actions, and even though they knew she did it for a good reason, it was still fun to watch her get flustered in an attempt to explain herself. Before she could go off on a speech about how the child wasn't safe with Lord Blackwood Ambrose spoke up.

"So instead, I think that the four of us should do it. We'll scout the forest on friday night when the moon is at it's fullest and the creature is sure to be out, and we'll subdue it," he said. Noticing Sabrina's mixed expression, though, he corrected himself. "Subdue as in, catch and  _not_  kill it, cousin, don't you threat. It is still a mortal inside that wolf skin, I know. We'll just catch it, keep it down in the morgue, and at daylight we'll have a little discussion with our furry friend and see if we can come up with a way to help them."

"If not..." Zelda trailed off, raising her eyebrows as she pointedly put her cigarette out. Sabrina frowned, looking back towards her cousin.

"So... A werewolf hunt," she said almost breathlessly. "I'm in."

//

In the light of the moon the four Spellmans left their home and ventured out into the forest between Greendale and Rivervale. Splitting up at a distance where each person could still see at least one more, they combed the forest looking for anything that could lead them to their werewolf. 

Sabrina felt as though her heart was going to burst out of her chest. While she was not afraid of the night or the forests she knew so well, she was afraid of the werewolf. She had never had to hunt one before so the creature remained an unpredictable enemy to her. Also, she had seen the injuries the creature had left it's victims. It did not look like a peaceful death. It was something the young witch did not want to have to experience. However, she felt safer knowing that her family were nearby. The victims had all been mortals, of course they weren't to survive a werewolf attack. But there were four witches and warlocks on the hunt for it now. If anything, she felt a little scared for the creature that did not know what was coming for it.

It must've been hours that they walked through the forests, but eventually a sign of the werewolf made itself known to Ambrose. Without a word he gestured for his family to come near.

"Listen," he whispered softly when they were together, and a quiet passed over the group. At first they heard nothing. Then - 

" _No!"_

The group rushed towards the source of the noise, feet slipping over mulched leaves and damp twigs, all thankful that the late winter weather allowed for them to move noiselessly towards their target. Beside her Sabrina could hear her aunt Hilda whispering in Latin words of protection while on the hunt. On the other side Zelda had already grabbed her stake, gripping it hard in one hand.

As they neared a clearing they heard a gargling sound that twisted the inside of Sabrina's stomach. Slowing, the group hid themselves behind trees and looked out towards the scene before them. What they saw shocked Sabrina to her core.

It wasn't a werewolf. In fact, it wasn't a monster at all.  _It's a couple_ , Sabrina thought in shock. Because there, in the middle of a clearing, the couple were swaying together in the moonlight, holding each other in a tight embrace. Sabrina blushed furiously, catching sight of the woman who seemed to be kissing the man, and she adverted her eyes from the seemingly erotic scene before her. Turning to her side she caught sight of Ambrose who was doing the opposite. Instead his eyes were transfixed on the pair, watching with no fear about modesty or privacy. Sabrina wanted to nudge her cousin, to tell them all that they should leave, but then she noticed his eyes narrowing.

"Ambrose?" she whispered. Her cousin's eyes widened.

"No," he breathed, the shock as clear as the scene before him on his face. Hesitantly Sabrina turned back towards the couple, forcing herself to look closer. Yes, they were in an embrace, but there was something  _wrong_  with the picture before her. She was sure she and Harvey had never looked like that when they embraced. For one thing, the man's arms were at his sides, not hugging the woman back. For another, it looked as though the woman was using all her strength to keep him upright. And now that Sabrina  _really_  looked, the woman wasn't kissing him at all. Her lips were by his neck and his neck-

His neck was ripped wide open.

Sabrina couldn't help but let out a shocked gasp. Like the snap of a twig the woman lifted her head up towards the group and stared. Sabrina was not the only person taken aback by the woman upon seeing her face. Beside her she heard her aunts murmuring as they stepped back, and even Ambrose couldn't help but let out an exclaimation. At first, Sabrina didn't want to believe what he was saying, but there was no denying the truth in front of her.

"That's... That's..." he trailed off as the woman let the body of the man fall to the ground at her feet.

"In Satan's name," Hilda gasped. "That's the Loptrsdotter girl."


	8. Five // Loptrsdotter Past

It felt as though decades passed between them all before somebody made the first move. Slowly Zelda took a step forward, staring at the girl with narrowed eyes. She stared back, watchful like a cat, never moving even as the group slowly began to close in. Slowly raising her hands Hilda spoke.

"Sweetheart? Are - are you all right?" she asked hesitantly, the girl turning towards her. She did not answer, her eyes catching the moon's light and flashing brightly. In this light the blood seemed to shimmer and gloss down the bottom half of her face. When Hilda took another step forward she dropped the body of the boy with a thud. Sabrina couldn't help herself: she looked at his face.

Eyes wide and mouth open as though in a silent scream, the unknown boy stared at her from the ground. Her eyes travelling she stared at the mess that was his throat, almost wanting to throw up when she caught a sliver of bone beneath the pulpy meat. Swallowing Sabrina looked up at the murderer. Still she did not move.

"Do... Can she not see us?" Ambrose asked, looking at his aunts. 

"I think she can. She's just not... not moving," Hilda said. It was true. Like a statue the girl had frozen. The only giveaway that she was alive and alert was the movement in her eyes, flickering from one person to the next.

"Where's her sister?" Zelda hissed, and cautiously everyone save Sabrina looked around the clearing. Noticing her eyes on her the girl stared at Sabrina. It was hard for Sabrina to pin down what it was she could see in her eyes. They weren't devoid of emotion but there was a lack of something in them that shocked her to see.  _These are not the eyes of the girl I had spoken to in the forest all those weeks ago_ , Sabrina thought, and she held out her hand.

"Sigrún?" She whispered.

Without a word Sigrún slowly stepped towards the youngest Spellman, head tilted slightly. When she reached back towards the girl Sabrina thought that maybe, maybe she was coming back to her senses. They were close, their fingertips barely brushing one another-

"No!"

The shout from Zelda caught Sigrún's attention. Like a whip she spun her head towards the woman who was beginning to raise her hand, a spell on her lips. Before they could leave them though Sigrún was in front of her, hand now closed around Zelda's throat. Chaos erupted around them as Sabrina, Hilda, and Ambrose tried to stop Sigrún who threw the witch across the clearing. Landing hard against a tree Sigrún turned her attention towards the others who were staring at her with shock, Sabrina breathing hard. Now there was an emotion on Sigrún's face that she could pinpoint. It was wild and dark and dangerous. It was  _murderous_. With a scowl she took a step towards the closest person - Ambrose - and was about to attack when she stopped. Confusion took over her face before, with a soft sigh, she fell onto the ground with eyes shut. 

"What... in  _Satan's_ name.... was all that?" Zelda wheezed from the tree, struggling to her feet. Rushing past the fallen body of Sigrún, casting weary glances towards it, Ambrose tended to his aunt, helping her up and bringing her back towards the group. Hilda knelt down before the girl, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"She's unconcious," she said softly, eyebrows drawn together in puzzlement. 

"Why? H-How?!" Ambrose asked. Looking around the clearing Sabrina paused, lips parted in surprise.

"Um... guys?" she said, catching their attention. "I think I know."

There, standing by the treeline, was the sister of Sigrún. In her hands she held a small doll with the likeliness of her sister, a syringe needle sticking out of it. Without a word she hurried into the clearing, walking past the others without a word. Kneeling down beside Hilda, El rolled her sister onto her back and checked her pulse, murmuring softly beneath her breath.

For a moment nobody spoke, too shocked to understand what was going on around them. Eventually, though, Zelda opened her mouth to interrupt the silence. Before she could, however, El turned towards Hilda.

"I need your help," she whispered. Stunned, Hilda didn't reply at first, looking at the woman and then the others.

"H-Help?! Help! What we need is an explination!" Zelda demanded, staring down at El. 

"And you will get it if you help me," El snapped, throwing a look at Zelda before letting out a sigh, swallowing back her frustration. "I just... I don't mean to be rude, but... I just need your help. Please, I promise, I will.... I will tell you everything if you can help me get her back to our house."

The Spellmans looked at one another, weariness across all of their faces. They had seen what Sigrún could do, had come to learn that the werewolf was no werewolf at all but a mortal woman - or, at least, so they thought.  _Who knows what kind of thing her sister is_ , Sabrina couldn't help but think, looking at El who was staring at them helplessly. 

In the end it was Ambrose who answered, looking at the woman carefully before nodding.

"Leave the boy here. He'll be found just like all the other victims. We'll - we'll help you bring her home," he said. Relief passed over El's features and she smiled softly at Ambrose.

"Thank you," she whispered, and the group got to work helping to take Sigrún home.

// 

The cottage Sabrina had only seen from a distance looked bigger at night, the trees opening up to a clearing where it sat alone in the moonlight. As Ambrose and Hilda helped carry Sigrún up the stairs El got the door, ushering them all in quickly before closing it behind them.

There was a snake lounging upon the couch when the group entered the house. Apart from El who moved towards the creature everyone else paused, staring at it with wide eyes. They knew what that was before El began to speak to it.

"You know you're not allowed on the couch, Jörmungandr," she murmured to the snake as she set it down on the ground, the creature hissing back. "Plumping it up? Please. You're terrible."

"You - you have a familiar?" Sabrina exclaimed as Ambrose and Hilda placed Sigrún down on the couch. With eyes all on her El frowned, hesitating. With a deep sigh, she nodded softly. The Spellmans stared at one another in shock.

"So... So you're a witch," Hilda said. El looked at her coworker, biting her lip. They hadn't wanted it to be this way. They hadn't wanted anyone to know.

"Yes," she murmured, looking across at all of them. "And... And I assume that all of you are too? Considering you know what a familiar is, yes?"

This time it was the Spellmans who looked uncomfortable, casting glances at one another. Like El, they did not want people to know either. However, it seemed that tonight would not be the night to keep secrets. Without a word Ambrose nodded. El didn't say a word.

"If you have a familiar, where's Sigrún's?" Sabrina asked, noticing that the snake was the only other familiar in the room.

"She doesn't have one," El explained. "Her _mørk døpte_  never occurred when she turned sixteen, therefore she did not recieve one."

"But why?" Sabrina asked, surprised. Every witch - whether or not they wanted to - had to have their dark baptism. They had to sign their name away to the Dark Lord. She knew that better than anyone. Looking down at her sister El sighed.

"That... That is a long story."

"Well tell it, miss, because we'd like some answers as to why your sister here is going around eating the people of Greendale and it's neighbouring towns," Zelda said, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. El frowned at the quick response but eventually allowed herself to sit on the edge of the couch, Hilda and Sabrina taking the two chairs near the table.

"Firstly, I want to thank you for not killing Sigrún. In truth, I do not think you would have been able to, not when she is like that. But still, thank you," she said, before looking over at Hilda. "And... And I have to tell you. My name isn't El, Hilda. It's Helheim. I go by El in public as it is not as terrifying as my real name."

"That is a fact," Hilda said before she could stop herself, still shaking the shivers off her skin when she heard the young woman say her real name. Where had she heard that before?

  
"Okay, well, gratitude shown, names known. What isn't known is the truth," Sabrina said, leaning forward in her seat and looking from Helheim to Sigrún, pointing at the latter. "Why is she eating people?"

"I... I must start from the beginning, and for us that is Norway," Helheim said, letting out a little sigh before she looked over at her sister, features of stress softening into ones of memory, of longing.

  
"We lived in a small town outside Trondheim that was surrounded by forests, much like Greendale is except... wilder. Colder. Easier to hide from the mortal world, which is what we did most of the time. Father didn't care for the mortals. We were different. We were special."

"Who was father?" Zelda asked.  
  
"En far was - is - Loptr Larsson. High priest of our coven there. A well-respected man, the highest ranking warlock in Norway. I don't think you would have heard of him though, unless you are well-read or have links to that side of the world." When nobody replied, Helheim continued.  
  
"He is a Norwegian warlock and she was a British witch. "She" being Rowena Parker. Our mother," a small smile touched Helheim's face as she thought about the woman. "Perhaps Sigrún's en mor moreso than mine. I mean, mor and I were close, however far and I were closer. Either way, I loved her, and I believed her."

"Believed her? What do you mean?" Sabrina asked. At this question Helheim stopped, licking her dry lips as her eyes landed on Sigrún, eyebrows drawn together.

"Far was possessive. He was the high priest, after all, and that made him royalty. A royal family must not be infected in any way, and that of course includes the children. But he thought we had been," Helheim murmured. "Not instantly. It was later, the evening before Sigrún's thirteenth birthday. That's when Loki came to him-"

"Loki?" It was Zelda's turn to interrupt, head tilted slightly. Helheim looked over at her.

"The Dark Lord. We call him Loki. He isn't a lord in our eyes, but a God.  _The_  God. The only one that matters. But he is the same as what you American's call the Dark Lord," she explained before continuing. 

"Loki came to far and called Sigrún a changeling. When far awoke, he gathered the coven together and made the accusation in front of everyone. On my søster's thirteenth birthday she was put on trial along with our mor, who was found guilty of not taking care of far's original child with her, allowing the babe to be taken by trolls and replaced with one of their kind - Sigrún. Because of this, she was killed by far. He then had Sigrún locked up until he decided what to do with her. I wouldn't give him the chance to find an answer to that question though."

Reaching down and brushing a strand of brown hair off her sister's bloody face, Helheim smiled.

"I stole her away," she whispered. "We ran from our coven and across the sea where their magic could not harm us... harm her. We have been here ever since, learning how to adjust to the mortal world, trying to survive. I don't know if far tried to look for us. I don't even know if Ragna was safe from his wrath-"

"Ragna?" Hilda questioned.

"The youngest. There were three Loptrsdotters. She was ten when we left."

"So... That explains why you're here," Sabrina said, casting a glance at Sigrún who still continued to sleep. "We still don't know why she's killing people, though."

"Nor do I."

"What?" The exclaimation came from all the Spellmans, staring in shock at Helheim who could only offer them a shake of her head and shrug of her shoulders.

"She didn't always do this. It started a few months after her sixteenth birthday, maybe a little earlier, however I cannot be sure. Jörmungandr was the one who caught her killing a girl from her school. By the time I found her that early morning in an alley near our apartment the girl was practically dead, and when I tried to save her Sigrun used her powers against me. Afterwards, when she returned home to bed and I had cleaned up her mess, she seemed to have no knowledge about what had occured."

"She couldn't remember killing her!?" Zelda exlaimed, making Helheim nod.

"She can't remember any of them. She doesn't know."

"So instead of sleep-walking, she's sleep-killing?" Ambrose said. 

"It would appear so."

"Has... has she always killed this many people in such a short amount of time?" Sabrina asked. 

"No. It started with perhaps one or two people a year, but something's different this time. She's never done something like this before," Helheim told them, rubbing her arms as though that particular knowledge made her muscles ache. She looked down at her sister, eyebrows drawn together in stress.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted softly. "I... I know that this is bad. It's getting so much worse, more agressive. But... But I can't kill her. She is my sister, my flesh and blood. And I am not like my far. I would never hurt a family member. I just... I just don't know what to do."

Tears slowly beginning to spill down her cheeks Helheim sniffed, wiping at her eyes. Looking at each other Hilda and Zelda frowned. Despite their differences and the amount of times Zelda had put Hilda in the Cain pit, they would never be able to permanantly kill the other. Standing, Hilda walked over to Helheim, wrapping the younger woman in her arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Don't you fret now, okay?" she cooed, brushing the girl's dark hair with her hands. Zelda nodded softly, looking at Ambrose and Sabrina who could only watch the scene with sadness.

"Yes, don't cry, Helheim. You're in safe hands," Zelda agreed, standing up. All eyes on her, the group watched as Zelda folded her arms and began pacing the room.

"What are you thinking, aunty?" Sabrina asked, speaking the words that everyone was thinking.

"You say it started after her sixteenth birthday? When she was supposed to have her dark baptism but didn't?" Zelda asked. With a sniff Helheim nodded, gripping Hilda's arm softly.

"Then we give her what she must need. A dark baptism. A coven to call home. Guidance from those that are like her, like you."

"Are you suggesting Sigrún join the coven?" Ambrose asked, eyebrows raised. Zelda nodded.

"Precisely."

"But aunty, you do know that would mean you would have to speak with-" Ambrose began before Zelda nodded, cutting him off with a wave of her hand.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'll have to speak with Father Blackwood," she grumbled, a look of displeasure passing over her face. "But I can sort that out. We'll have him come and meet you and your sister, Helheim, and see if he will accept her into our coven."

"And you as well, Helheim, if you wish?" Hilda added. With a grateful smile Helheim shook her head, wiping her eyes.

"No, no, I - I was never banished from my coven so technically I am still part of one. But Sigrún... this could be good for her. This could be what she needs," she said, looking at Zelda. "Please... If you can make it happen, I would forever be in your debt. All of you."

"Well then. It's decided," Zelda declared, looking over at Sigrún. "We'll leave you to suggest the idea to your sister once she wakes."

"I will."

As the group made to leave the cottage, Helheim following them towards the front door, Sabrina looked at the older woman with a slight frown. 

"Do you think this is something Sigrún would want?" she couldn't help but ask. The older woman looked down at her in slight puzzlement, prompting Sabrina to explain herself.

"I was... I was doubtful when it came to my dark baptism. I was unsure. I put off signing my name in the Book of the Beast. Do you think this is something Sigrún would want?"

"I think so," Helheim admitted. "She's always wanted a place to belong. When we first arrived in Greendale she said that this was the place where everything would be okay. I think this would make everything so much better, knowing that we are not the only witches in Greendale and she will finally be a part of a coven. Also," she bent down closer to Sabrina, a soft smile on her features. 

"I think she would be even happier to know that someone cares for her. A friend," she murmured. Sabrina smiled slightly, looking into the room and catching Sigrún's sleeping figure. She knew that if she only had a friend to help her during her dark baptism, it might've gone so much easier than what she ended up going through.  _A friend for her_ , Sabrina thought.  _That doesn't sound too bad, now that I know she's a witch too._

"I think I can be that person," Sabrina agreed, making Helheim smile. Without another word Sabrina moved to join the rest of their family, discussion being laid out about the newest initiation into their coven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha I forgot to add this chapter before chapter six I'm a dumbass


	9. Six // The Church of Night

They arrived at the Spellman household late in the night, a heavy fog beginning to descend. Staring up at the house they were approaching Sigrún let out a small breath, a shiver running down her spine. Everything her sister had told her had been a shock to the system. The Spellmans, witches?! Like them?? She hadn't expected it. However, she found some comfort in the new knowledge.  _I knew Greendale was the right place to settle_ , she thought, and in the back of her mind she thought she heard someone else agree.

"Good evening, Hilda." Her sister gave the older woman a hug which was returned warmly by the shorter Spellman aunt.

"Good evening, El - er, Helheim," Hilda replied, blushing slightly at the mistake in name. "Sorry. Old habits."

"It's fine. You remember Sigrún?" With that Helheim tugged on her sister's arm, bringing her across the threshold and towards Hilda who smiled warmly, reaching out and rubbing her elbow.

"Of course, how... how could I forget?" Hilda said weakly, stepping back and allowing them further entrance into the house. "Zelda and Ambrose are in the living room. Sabrina, look who's here!"

Looking up towards the staircase Sigrún locked eyes with the youngest witch in the Spellman family. It felt as though it had been months since she had last seen Sabrina, and yet Sigrún knew it had only been a few short weeks. The coat she had worn in the forest the last time the pair had seen each other was gone, replaced by an outfit that was simple yet lovely on the witch. She wore a black turtleneck shirt and a short checkered red skirt, belted tight around her waist.  _A modern witch_ , Sigrún thought, pulling at the long sleeved dress she wore in an effort to look presentable. For a moment she couldn't help but wonder why her appearance mattered when it came to standing before Sabrina, but like the fog outside one descended upon her mind and suddenly it didn't seem to matter what the answer was. She was down the stairs. She was standing in front of her now.

"How are you, Sabrina?" Sigrún asked, brushing a stray strand of wavy brown hair behind her ears. The younger witch nodded, mimicking the other girl's action.

"Fine. Very good, actually. And... and yourself?" She asked.

"Curious. Surprised. I did not think your family had ties to the supernatural," Sigrún admitted, and both girls laughed weakly, Sabrina nodding.

"Well, ditto," she said, gesturing towards Sigrún and her sister. Helheim smiled at that, turning towards Hilda.

"Can you tell us what we should expect from this Father Blackwood?" she asked the older witch. Hilda tilted her head slightly, biting down on her lip as she thought.

"Well, Father Blackwood, he's... he's..." she frowned, looking at the two sisters. "He's a little unsettling, truth be told."

"That... is not comforting," Sigrún drawled, looking over at her sister with a raised eyebrow before turning back towards Hilda, smiling slightly. "However, the honesty is appreciated."

"He'll just ask you some questions, Sigrún," Hilda said, giving the girl a comforting smile. "You have nothing to worry about!"

"Thank you, Hilda," Sigrún smiled. With a nod Hilda made her way towards the room, Helheim following. Once the pair were gone Sigrún turned towards Sabrina, eyebrows raised and a small, crooked smile on her face. "Now was  _she_ being honest?"

"I mean..." Sabrina trailed off, rolling her eyes and letting out a breathless laugh, shrugging before looking back at Sigrún. "Haven't you had enough honesty for one day?"

With a small chuckle Sigrún looked down at the ground, shaking her head.

"Funny," she said with a grin, looking at Sabrina with a grateful look on her face. "I like you, Sabrina Spellman. You're very funny. Meanwhile I am... extremely nervous."

Sigrún laughed once more except this time Sabrina could hear the tension in her voice. There was a darkness settling across her face, one that made Sabrina feel sorry for the older woman. 

"I'm... I'm sure you've heard the stories about mine and my sister's last coven?" Sigrún asked, looking at Sabrina sadly. The younger witch nodded with a frown. That story had been shocking, one that Sabrina had been thinking about since Helheim had first revealed the truth to them all. For a man to murder his wife and then think about murdering his child... it was horrifying to Sabrina. With a sad smile Sabrina spoke.

"This will be different," she said, reaching out and taking the other witch's hand. "You won't be alone in there, Sigrún. I promise."

For a moment Sigrún did not reply, staring at Sabrina in slight surprise at the contact. Inside she could feel the fog moving down towards her stomach, and she wondered what it was doing, spreading in such a way. Before it could do anymore, though, Sigrún's body seemed to find the voice that the fog was distracting her from using.

"T-Thank you," she murmured, squeezing her hand gently before letting it go and staring at the doorway into the room. "I guess we shouldn't keep him waiting?"

With a nod Sabrina led the way, Sigrún following in her footsteps.

//

The fire was the first thing Sigrún noticed when she entered the dimly light room. Crackling softly, it illuminated the people in the room. Leaning against the wall was Zelda, cigarette hanging lazily between two fingers. Sitting on the sofa was Hilda and Helheim, her sister casting a concerned glance towards her when she first entered. Standing behind her sister was Ambrose, the Spellman cousin's hand settle on the back of the sofa and near her sister's shoulder. In front of her Sabrina looked back towards her, mouthing the words, "Are you okay?" Softly Sigrún nodded and Sabrina took a seat on the edge of the sofa, looking towards the occupied armchair on the right of the fireplace. Sigrún cast her eye towards it and suddenly stood still.

He was both the image - and  _not_ the image - of the High Priest she had been imagining in her head. He sat in the armchair as though he owned the house and clasped in the palm of his hand was a cane that was settled against the arm of his chair. But his fingernails were perfectly manicured and when she got a good look at his face she noticed black kohl lining his blue eyes. She tried to compare the warlock in front of her with the one she called far, but it was too much of a stretch. Where far had been passionate, loud, strong, this warlock had a simmering power to him that he kept locked under tight, authoritive control. 

"Siggy," Helheim murmured, "this is Father Blackwood."

"A pleasure to make your aquaintance, Sigrún," he said, gesturing towards the armchair in front of her. "Please, sit."

Without a word Sigrún did so, sitting opposite the High Priest. Looking towards her sister Helheim smiled slightly before staring back at the other warlock, Sigrún doing the same. 

"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" he said simply, head tilted to the side. Sigrún swallowed, itching her fingernails against her thighs.

"In truth, Father Blackwood, I am finding it a little difficult to be sitting in front of a High Priest," Sigrún admitted, locking eyes with his blue ones. "The last time this occurred I had just witnessed the death of my mother and was also slated for slaughter."

"Of course. This must be a very difficult situation you are in, Sigrún. But I can assure you, I am not like your father," Blackwood told her, crossing his legs and looking at her with a frown. "What happened all those years ago caused quite the scandel in particular circles belonging to the Dark Lord and his... highest subjects."

"So you've heard?" Sigrún asked, surprised. He smiled, nodding slightly.

"Many did. Your father still searches for you," he told her, looking over at Helheim who had grown pale. "He searches for both of you."

"Did he tell you that?" Sigrún asked, the bottom of her lip beginning to tremble. Now she couldn't help but see him as her far, so close to ordering her execution. He shook his head, finger tapping against the head of his cane.

"Whispers, only whispers," he replied.

"Whispers that, I hope, you will not reply to," Helheim said, her voice sharper than most times Sigrún had ever heard her speak. She looked over at her sister to see Helheim's fists clenched, back straight against the sofa as she stared at Father Blackwood. Behind her Sigrún watched as Ambrose lay a gentle, comforting hand on her sister's shoulder, Hilda tilting her knees towards her. Looking at her sister Father Blackwood nodded.

"Of course not, no," he told her. With a stiff nod Helheim allowed herself to relax slighty, Father Blackwood smiling softly in her direction, leaning back in his chair. "I knew your mother for a short time. She was... a delightful young witch. Very talented. Very beautiful. Not the type to betray Loptr like that. I was saddened to hear of her execution, especially given that I - like a handful of others - did not believe the lies."

At this knowledge the people in the room shifted, surprised by his talk. Sigrún and Sabrina shared a look of surprise between one another, one that she shared with her sister. By the fire Zelda snuffed her cigarette out hard, lips tight. Helheim stared at Father Blackwood for a moment, eyebrows drawn.

"Despite the fact far claimed Loki, the Dark Lord, did come to him with those words of adultry, betrayal, and changelings?" she asked. "You did not believe him despite this?"

"The Dark Lord is not the only one who speaks to us. We must learn to seperate his voice from the voices of evil, of doubt," Blackwood told her, turning towards Sigrún with a sigh. "I fear your father was unable to do that at the time, resulting in what occurred."

"And yet he still stands by his actions, does he not?" Helheim asked, leaning forward slightly.

"He does. I do not."

"May we stop talking about mor, please, and start talking about the reason why we are here?" Sigrún couldn't help but exclaim, looking from Father Blackwood to her sister. Helheim frowned slightly, obviously wishing to discuss the matter further, but she nodded, leaning back in her seat. Father Blackwood bowed his head slightly.

"Apologises, Sigrún, child. I am sure this must be a difficult conversation for you to be hearing," he admitted before clearing his throat, sitting up straighter. "You wish to join the church of night?"

"Yes."

"And what makes you a suitable candidate for our coven?"

"I..." Sigrún trailed off, looking at Sabrina who raised her eyebrows. "Are-Are there requirements? Boxes I have to tick? I would have thought being a witch in need of a coven is enough of a reason for one to be accepted-"

"Sigrún." Helheim frowned, shaking her head at the sarcastic manner that Sigrún was talking to the High Priest. Father Blackwood didn't seem to mind, however, lazily waving a hand.

"It's fine, Miss Loptrsdotter. Your sister has a right to question me," he told Helheim before turning his attention back towards Sigrún. "I ask out of curiousity and so then I know that I will not be letting any undesireables into the coven. You must understand, hmm?"

"Yes. I do. I just..." Sigrún swallowed, looking around at the others. She felt uncomfortable, thinking about what it was she wanted to say in front of a room of near strangers. She wouldn't have minded too much if it had just been her and Helheim, or even her and Sabrina, but everyone else... It made her feel odd. Before she could tell them that, though, she found the words of her true feelings tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them - which she tried - and failed - to do. 

"I just want a place to belong," she confessed to Father Blackwood, eyes wide. "It scars a person, to be called a changeling by their far, to be the reason why their mor is dead. Then to be threatened with death yourself, meaning that you must leave all that is familiar behind you, at such a young age. I am a witch without a coven. I need... I need a home. And when we arrived here in Greendale all those weeks ago, I could feel it in my bones. This... This is where it begins. The place I need to be. I know I could bring so much to the coven and they... they could bring so much to me, things I need desperately. I wish to serve Loki - to serve the Dark Lord. I can do that properly with the help of a coven. With your help, Father Blackwood. Please."

For a moment nobody said a word and Sigrún wished to take advantage of that silence to admit that that wasn't what she wanted to say, that she had lost herself, that the fog was swirling in her head and maybe it touched a part of her brain that made her speak in such an open and emotional manner but she didn't mean it, she takes it back, she's not usually like that-

"What would be a good night for your dark baptism, child?"

That sentence from Father Blackwood stilled her thoughts. Blinking in shock Sigrún stared at him, lips parted slightly. He stared at her without movement, without emotion, but there was something in his eyes that Sigrún noticed. An acceptance, perhaps, or something more. Either way, she felt the fog in her head lift and the need to admit the truth from before gone with it too.

"Next week," Helheim said when her sister would not answer. "Sigrún will be turning twenty-one then."

"When the supermoon occurs? A good omen for you indeed, Sigrún," he told her. "We shall begin the preparations at once. Zelda, I trust you and your family will help prepare Sigrun for this night?"

"Of course, Father Blackwood," the older woman replied. "We would be delighted to help."

"And Miss Loptrsdotter, I have a great desire to discuss with you in further detail any differences your culture has with ours that may be intergrated into the ceremony, if possible?"

"That would be very much appreciated, Father Blackwood. Any time that suits you, I will come by and discuss those details immediately," Helheim said gratefully, a beaming smile on her face that she shared with the others in the room.

"Thank you. If that is it?" When nobody spoke Father Blackwood stood and soon, after the thanks and farewells were done, the High Priest disappeared into the night with a final look at Sigrún that she too did not break.

//

"Thank you, Spellmans. I do not think we could've done this without any of you," Helheim breathed, looking at the family gratefully as the sisters stood by the door ready to depart.

"Our pleasure, Helheim. We can't wait to welcome your sister into our coven," Ambrose said, smiling at the woman who blushed slightly, ducking her head under his stare. Nudging her gently, Sabrina grabbed the attention of Sigrún, distracting the woman from thinking about her sister and Ambrose.

"You should come by sometime, Sigrún. I... I could help you choose a dress if you like?" Sabrina offered, thinking about her own dark baptism.  _Mine was terrifying, but hers doesn't have to be._

"I'd... I'd like that very much, Sabrina," Sigrún murmured, taking hold of Sabrina's hand and squeezing it gently. "Thank you. For everything."

Once the sisters were gone and the Spellmans returned to their nightly routine, Sabrina couldn't help but think about that touch that reminded her so much of their first meeting.  _It happened again, I think_ , she thought as she crawled into bed, staring up at the ceiling.  _Or maybe I'm just imagining things._

She clenched her hand tightly, feeling a tingle run up her hand, before relaxing and feeling it fade. That feeling followed her into her dreams, all filled with electricity that was drenched in red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freaking season 2 of CAOS is going pretty damn well atm isn't it? Only halfway through but I'm digging it and it's making me wanna write more of this fanfic ya feel? Hope you guys are enjoying it too!


	10. Seven // Black Dresses

The day had been gorgeous despite the dark cloud of their mother's death that hung about them. Helheim, ever the devoted sister, had made sure that Sigrún's birthday would not be marred buy their dark past. She had spent the day distracting her sister with a trip deep into the woods where the pair had a picnic beside a lake, discussing all the things that crossed their mind. While Sigrún had seemed happy and content, the excitement for tonight's events not yet taking hold of her usually calm and quiet soul, there was a melancholy there that Helheim still wished to shake. So, when they had returned home, she retrieved from her room the gift she had been waiting to give her sister. A familiar of her own.

Needless to say Sigrún had been overjoyed by the gift, naming the russet red fox Narfi. For a moment Helheim thought that she saw the child she had spirited away all those years ago, excited about the birthday that never ended up being celebrated. It made her smile, seeing her usually sullen sister so happy. She hoped that the feeling would stay with her as they travelled to the Spellman household together.

The first person to greet them at the house was Ambrose. The young warlock was dressed up in suit, a smile flashing onto his face when he caught sight of Helheim in her silk red dress.

"My, my, you're looking ravishing, Helheim," he purred, taking her hand and kissing it gently before leading her into the foyer. Standing beside him had been Sabrina who had only rolled her eyes at Sigrún, greeting her warmly as she welcomed her into their home.

"There is a chance your sister may end up stealing your thunder, Sigrún," Ambrose called with a smile over his shoulder as the younger witches followed them, making them laugh as he spun Sigrún's sister around, her dress flaring out wonderfully.

"I'd say she deserves all the thunder in the world," Sigrún replied, Helheim giggling and swatting bashfully at her sister's words.

"Oh, hush now,  _min søster_. You speak too sweetly. As for you, Ambrose..." she trailed off, smiling softly as she took in his apperance. With a shrug, she spoke. "Well, what else should I expect from you?"

"Mmm, Helheim, love," he murmured, taking a step closer to her and making her blue eyes lock with his brown ones. "Expect the world."

"Okay!!" Sabrina laughed quickly, looking at Sigrún with wide eyes that Sigrún mirrored on her own face. If they only hand a stick in the room,  _that_ would be sharp enough to cut through the sexual tension that both young witches were currently stuck in. "That's enough of that, don't you think, Sigrún?"

"I very much agree," the other witch giggled, looking at the pair. With a cheeky grin Ambrose looked at the blushing Helheim.

"Zelda is already at the clearing. We could walk there now too? Leave these young ones to prepare?" he suggested.

"If that is all right with you, Siggy?" Helheim asked, looking over towards her sister who nodded happily. She liked seeing her sister giddy with excitement. She did not want to ruin it. Tonight was going to be all sorts of magic. She could feel it in her bones.

"It's fine. Go. We will follow," Sigrún said. With shared smiles the two older witches waved goodbye to the younger, slipping out the door with soft words. When they were gone Sigrún looked to Sabrina. The younger witch - albeit excited - seemed to carry an air of nervousness that Sigrún shared with her. Taking a deep breath Sigrún looked upstairs, clinging the dresses she carried close to her chest.

"Right," she breathed. "Shall we begin?"

//

She had just finished bathing and was now sitting in Sabrina's robe at the witch's dresser, the younger running a brush through her hair. A collection of black and white dresses lay on Sabrina's bed, waiting for Sigrún to make her decision on which would be worn to her dark baptism. It seemed that the white dresses would be given a miss which had made Sigrún a little sad. In Norway a girl wore white to her dark baptism. She had hoped to have looked as beautiful as her sister had when she had hers, but Sabrina had told her that there was no point in wearing white. Sabrina had told her a lot of things, in fact, mainly information concerning her own dark baptism.

But they had moved on from that darker subject, allowing it to slip away with the bath water. Now they were talking about things that were closer to home.

"Your cousin seems to like my sister very much," Sigrún hummed, catching Sabrina's smile in the mirror.

"Does she like him?" Sabrina asked, taking three strands of hair on one side of her head and beginning to braid it backwards, threading into it the beads and hoops that Helheim had gifted Sigrún, a common accessory for their dark baptisms back home.

"She speaks about him on occasion at home," Sigrún smiled, knowing that was an understatement. Whenever Sigrún would return from spending time with Sabrina she would automatically ask how Ambrose was. "She thinks he's charming and intelligent. Does he talk about her when we are not here?"

"From time to time," Sabrina replied.  _Which means every minute of every day_ , she thought to herself with a soft chuckle. "He thinks she's strong."

"She is. Incredibly strong," Sigrún murmured. Sabrina frowned slightly, lowering her hands and looking at Sigrún in the mirror.

"What was it like? Having to run away from home?" she asked softly. Sigrún cast her eyes down, playing with her hands in her lap.

"Heartbreaking," she said gently. "At the time I didn't really understand what was going on. Far was... withdrawn. Suspicious. Angry. It reached a point where he could no longer hide it. He saw my mor as a traitor, an adulter. She was nothing of the sort. She was loving and kind and sweet."

With a soft laugh Sigrún looked up, catching Sabrina's eyes in the mirror.

"I remember when we first began to learn about Loki. She would sit us all down, Helheim, myself, and our younger sister Ragna, all lined up on a mat. She would read us the stories, tell us how great he is, get us to engage in discussions about him. I was passive. I believed all she had to say about him. Helheim, she questioned the stories a little more. Never disrespectful, though. I think Far liked that. They always had very interesting conversations about Loki."

"And Ragna?" Sabrina asked. At this Sigrún squirmed in her seat slightly, nibbling on the inside of her cheek before speaking once more.

"She... She was quiet for a little while. An observer. Just before Helheim and I ran away, though, she began to prove just how devoted she was to Loki. The sacrifices, the spells, the mutilations, all to show how much she loved our Dark Lord. Our God. Mor, I think, was concerned, but far was incredibly proud. Helheim and I must've seemed like such simple worshippers compared to Ragna. I think she could still be alive. I do not know why far would kill such a devoted witch. But we do not know. It all happened so long ago."

"How old was Helheim?"

"Eighteen," Sigrún replied, making Sabrina's eyebrows jump up.  _So young_ , she couldn't help but think. There seemed to be an agreement in Sigrún's eyes because she nodded, as if to say she was just as shocked at that answer as Sabrina was. "She didn't have to steal me away. She had her whole life ahead of her. She was going to go study at the same school our mor went to in England with her boyfriend."

"She had a boyfriend?"

"She had everything. She was so close to going out and exploring the world on her own, but then..." Sigrún sighed, a sad smile on her lips. "I blame myself for a lot of things, Sabrina. That included. She left everything behind for me."

"She must love you dearly," Sabrina murmured softly, starting on the second braid that would frame the witch's head like a crown.

"She does. And I love her too," Sigrún said before fidgeting slightly in her seat. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yes. Anything," Sabrina said honestly.

"I am hopeful that, by joining this coven, Helheim will feel secure enough to leave me. That, knowing I am in safe hands, she is now free to go and explore everything in this world. That's all I wish to give her, really," Sigrún admitted. Sabrina smiled at that, seeing the love that was inside Sigrún's eyes. To let someone go after depending on them for so long, it seemed like a difficult yet selfless choice to make. Sabrina wondered if Sigrún would be lonely if Helheim did end up leaving, if perhaps, she would need a friend with her. Someone to comfort her in the day.  _And night_ , a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. At that thought she couldn't help but blush slightly and she had to look down to stop the other witch from noticing.

"That's sweet of you," Sabrina murmured quickly, hurrying her fingers with the braid. Sigrún hummed in agreement, inhaling deeply before looking back at her reflection in the mirror.

"It feels like the right time," she said, maroon eyes locked on her twin. "The beginning."

//

"So that is all I have to say?" Sigrún asked, eyebrows raised at how little a script she had to follow. Sabrina nodded.

"Yep. It's quite simple, really."

"At home, we say these prayers to commit ourselves to Loki before slitting the throat of a cow and letting fellow coven members pour bowls of blood over our white gowns. We are baptised in the blood," Sigrún told Sabrina, the younger witch pinching up her face in response.

"That sounds ghastly," she cried, horrified by the imagery. Sigrún shrugged, smiling almost in a dreamlike state in the mirror.

"It's quite beautiful, really. Washing away your past, being bathed in such unholy blood, all for Loki. Helheim looked beautiful in her ceremony," she mused, tilting her head to the side and smoothing out her dress. Sabrina sat on the edge of her bed, staring at Sigrún's reflection in the mirror. The long lace dress fell down her form like a waterfall, skimming the tops of her bare feet. She tugged at the lace sleeves before lifting a hand towards her collarbones, milk white compared to the darkness of her dress. With a swipe of dark red lipstick on her mouth and her hair framing her face in loose waves apart from the braided sections, Sabrina saw the viking witch that the woman was. Ethereal, mysterious, and more dangerous than even Sigrún herself knew.  _There is a little of that creature I saw that night within her right now_ , Sabrina thought, mind flashing back to the clearing, the dead boy, the blood on Sigrún's face. Noticing that Sigrún was looking back at her in the mirror Sabrina cleared her throat, looking away.

"We- We just have our forehead marked with blood and then write our name in the Book of the Beast," she said quickly, pushing her hair behind her ears. Sigrún smiled slightly, turning around.

"You're right. It is simple," she replied, bending down and slipping on her shoes.

"Isn't it? It'll all be fine, just..." Sabrina inhaled deeply, a deep line set in her forehead. "Just do as he says."

Sigrún looked up at the younger witch, lips pursed slightly at Sabrina's comment. Straightening up she walked towards her, taking a seat on the bed as well.

"Are you scared for me?" she asked, thinking about what Sabrina had told her earlier. Sabrina frowned, hands clasped in her lap.

"A week isn't a very long time to think about the commitment you're making," Sabrina admitted, thinking about her own dark baptism. "If you begin to have doubts, you can turn away. I mean, I don't regret what I did. I thought I could have the best of both worlds, mortal and witch, at the time. Obviously that's not the case because in the end I did sign my name in the Book of the Beast. But... But if you don't want to sign your name, I want you to know that it's okay. I'd support you if that's the case."

Sigrún smiled at Sabrina, touched at her words. While she had no doubts at the time, it was nice to know that if she did she would have that support. Of course, Helheim would automatically be by her side if she changed her mind, but to have Sabrina there as well was comforting.  _Had this been Norway, far would have been livid, Ragna probably even more fearsome. Mor would've been ashamed, maybe in private, but the feeling would still be there,_ Sigrún thought a little sadly.  _At least I've got these two wonderful women in my life._

"I will heed your welcoming words, Sabrina," Sigrún told the witch, taking her hands in her own. With a smile Sabrina gripped her hands tightly. She hadn't felt this connected to someone else in a long time, not since she had defeated the thirteen. It was nice to have Sigrún around. It made her feel a little more human despite the witch's heritage. With a little sniff she stood up, looking over at the clock by her bed. 

"I think it's time," she breathed, looking at Sigrún. "Are you ready?"

Sigrún stood up, inhaling deeply and looking at herself one final time in the mirror.  _The perfect ending to a perfect day_ , she told herself. With a smile she turned to Sabrina.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case y'all hadn't noticed, I accidentally put up the previous chapter (The Church of Night) a little too early and skipped out on a chapter before that one, so if you missed that chapter (Loptrsdotter Past) then I suggest you go back and read it to bridge that random gap between chapter 4 and chapter 6 lol


	11. Eight // The Dark Baptism

The forest clearing was alight with candles and surrounded by figures that Sigrún had never met before. All wearing black, some wearing masks, they stared at her and Sabrina as they approached. Sigrún moved slowly, maroon eyes taking each figure in. Soon, they would become her new family, and it would be nice to find a friendly face in the crowd. She thought she might find success with a young group of witches who stood at the front of the scattered crowd, three girls who were wearing the same dresses. However, the way they looked at Sabrina made her think there would not be much love to be found there. She turned her eyes away, locking them on the people who were awaiting their arrival with smiles on their faces. 

Zelda was standing beside her nephew, smiling proudly as Sigrún walked down the isle with Sabrina. Sigrún wished that Hilda was there to see the occasion, however she had been informed that Hilda had been excommunicated from the church before she had arrived. Instead, she would be spending the night with Helheim's boss, Doctor Cerberus.  _Not like she hasn't seen this done before_ , she couldn't help but think. Still, though. It would've been nice.

Ambrose and Helheim were - naturally - standing next to each other. With a quick hug and some last whispering words of confidence into her ear, Sabrina moved towards them, Helheim quickly taking up her spot. The older sister took Sigrún into her arms when she reached her, a bright smile on her face. Cupping her face with both hands Helheim kissed Sigrún's forehead, whispering words in Norwegian that the others would not be able to understand. Sigrún did, though, and they made her smile in happiness to hear the love her sister held for her and how proud she was that they had made it to this wonderous night.

"Loki watches on with pride, sister," Helheim murmured, running her hand softly across the braids, beads, and hoops on the top of her head. Sigrún smiled.

"I do it for him, and for you," Sigrún replied sofly. With one last kiss on the forehead the two women turned towards the alter where, dressed in long, luxurious robes, Father Blackwood stood. With a quick scan of the witch in front of him Blackwood smiled, opening his hands towards her. 

"Welcome, daughter of night," Blackwood said in a loud voice that instantly quietened the crowd. "Who presents this child for unholy baptism?"

"I do," Helheim said, ushering her sister in front of her before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Father Blackwood nodded, looking Sigrún up and down once more before glancing over at Helheim.

"Disrobe her."

Slipping off her shoes, Sigrún pulled her hair out of her sister's way, allowing Helheim access to the zipper of the black lace dress. Chin lifted with a stony, unbreakable expression on her face, Sigrún stood still as Helheim slipped the dress off her arms and down her body, letting it fall in a pool around her feet and leaving her in a long black chemise. Her eyes did not leave Father Blackwood's as she stepped towards him, and neither did his until it was time to speak. 

"We are gathered here together in these woods in the presence of our dark lord with all the souls, the living and the dead, of our coven, the most unholy church of night," he declared to the coven before looking back at the younger woman. "Kneel, child."

She did as he asked, the dirt damp and cold beneath her knees. Behind her she heard someone, probably Helheim, let out a deep breath. She knew what her sister was thinking.  _This is not our way._  Where one would kneel before the high priest here, back home you would stand tall and proud as you were baptised into your coven, blood of the sacrifce pouring from bowls down your body. But there was no sacrifce, not yet, and no blood to be the unholy water in which one bathed in. Instead, father Blackwood dipped two long fingers into a small bowl of blood beside him, returning to paint the mark of the Dark Lord on Sigrún's forehead.

"Our dark lord teaches us there is no law beyond do what thou wilt," he said, looking down at her with dark eyes. "Our dark lord asks, would you like to be happy, child? To be free? Free to love, free to hate, to be what nature meant you to be, true to her laws and yourself only?"

"Yes, father," Sigrún answered, the two simple words an easy script to follow.

"Do you believe in Lucifer, the arkangel who preferred the loss of Heaven to that of his pride?"

"Yes, father." 

"And in exchange for this belief you will be granted powers that will enable you to be of service to the dark lord,"Blackwood said, taking a small step forward as Sigrún raised her head towards him, a small trail of blood running down her forhead and into the corner of one eye, continuing on like a tear. 

"Sigrún Rowena Helheim Parker..." She heard her sister inhale softly at hearing her chosen name. Sigrún hadn't told her what it was, but she hoped Helheim was touched by her acknowledgement of her older sister's sacrifice for her. She was also glad to get rid of her last name. In her new life with this new coven, she did not want any ties to her father. She would take her mother's maiden name instead. "Are you willing to forsake the path of light and follow the path of night wherever it may lead you?"

"Yes, father."

"And are you willing to place our dark lord above all others in your life, be it your loved ones, your friends, your neighbours?"

"Y-" Sigrún paused for a moment, hesitation passing over her face. Helheim had told her about her own dark baptism, and not once had she ever mentioned a line like this.  _Either she forgot to tell me about this particular vow, or the Americas take their devotion to Loki to different extremes._ Before her hesitation could become noticeable to the rest of the coven, a flicker of concern passing over Father Blackwood's face as he stared down at her, she felt her lips moving as she spoke the words, "Yes, father."

It didn't even sound like her own voice.

"Then it is time to sign his book," Blackwood said, and Sigrún brushed aside her previous thought.  _You're being silly_ , she told herself, accepting the warlock's outstretched hand as he helped her to her feet, leading her over to the book. 

Standing behind her, Father Blackwood held Sigrún's hand out over the book, using the other to take the knife and glide it across her open palm. Sigrún couldn't help but gasp at the pain, pulling away slightly only to be stopped by Father Blackwood's body, his hand gripping her wrist to steady her hand. Pulling the knife away, the pain now only a steady throb, the high priest forced Sigrún's bleeding hand into a fist and she watched as several drops of blood fell onto the page. Staring at it, she couldn't help but wonder,  _is it supposed to be that dark?_ She didn't understand how Ragna could do this willingly, but then again, she was always intensely devoted to Loki. 

"In signing his book, the book of the beast, you swear to obey without question any order you may recieve from the dark lord or from any figure he has placed in authority over you," Father Blackwood was saying now, standing behind the stone table as she dipped the pen into her blood, hovering over the line where she was to sign her name. "In signing his book, the book of the beast, you swear to give your mind, body, and soul unreservedly to the furtherence of the designs of our lord, Satan."

 _Mind, body, soul._ The words echoed in her head and she could feel a hesitance passing over her. Looking over her shoulder she stared at her sister, the Spellman aunts, Sabrina. 

 _"I ran from my dark baptism,"_ Sabrina had told her that evening in her bedroom before they spoke about Helheim and Ambrose.  _"It can be terrifying, but sacrifices have to be made."_

 _"Are you still terrified now?"_ Sigrún had replied, staring at the younger woman. Sabrina had nodded, and for the first time since she had met her, Sigrún saw her mortal side etched upon her face, a sliver of regret in her blue eyes. 

 _"Yes,"_  she had whispered. 

She felt Father Blackwood take her shaking hand, turning around to face him. His eyes were on hers, softly pushing her pen towards the paper until it made contact. She opened her mouth, wanted to speak out, to stop this, to say that she didn't want to belong to a coven anymore, that she had coped without one for almost a decade, that her coven was her sister-

But she didn't. She felt the fog seep into her brain, whisper softly, and like a switch she changed her mind instead. Feeling a wave of desire, of power, of wishing to please Loki ( _"Because that's what good witches do,"_ Loptr's voice in her head rung out), she looked away from Father Blackwood and down at the page, writing her name in cursive without his assistance. 

High above the sky rumbled, as though Thor and all the other Gods were angry with losing another one to Loki, but it cut off quickly.  _Loki has saved me from being struck down by the false Gods_ , she thought as she put the pen down and stared at her name.  _Loki is proud of me. Loki loves me. The Dark Lord has welcomed me into his warm embrace._

"Daughter of night," Father Blackwood said beside her, turning her around to face everyone. "Welcome to your new life. Welcome to your coven."

As he raised her bleeding hand into the air a cheer took over the forest clearing and suddenly she was being embraced by the coven. Any fears she had disappeared as they all extended their congratulations to the newly baptised witch, the group thinning out as the celebrations began until she was wrapped up in Helheim's arms.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered into her little sister's ear, pulling away to look down at her. "Mor would be proud."

"She would, wouldn't she?" Sigrún replied with a smile. Helheim nodded, brushing one hand down the side of her face before stepping aside, Sabrina taking her place.

"You were great," the younger witch said, touching her bare arm gently. 

"I admit, I did get a little nervous. I almost doubted myself," she replied, thinking again about Sabrina's words. The younger witch smiled sympathetically while Zelda shook her head, coming over to pat the young woman on the shoulder.

"All that matters, though, is that you signed your name regardless," Zelda finished, taking a draft from her newly lit cigarette. While her expression was still, Sigrún saw the pride in her eyes at having witnessed one of the witches in her care be baptised. 

"You were brave tonight," Sabrina said, looking away from her aunty and up at Sigrún. "I'm happy for you."

"Thank you," Sigrún said with a soft smile, pulling the girl in for a hug. "And thank you for your words. It allowed me to make an informed choice."

"Miss Parker."

Letting go of each other, the two women turned around to face Father Blackwood who was looking at both of them intently, blue eyes eventually focusing solely on Sigrún. 

"Congratulations on your baptism, Sigrún. I look forward to having you at the Academy," he said before taking her hand and leading her and the others towards the coven who were gathered around a cow, a large and deep bowl lying in front of it. "With the dark baptism over, the coven celebrates together by feasting on the sacrifice. Usually, the high priest would kill the sacrifice. However, noting your heritage, I think that job should fall onto you."

"Really?" Sigrún said, stopping before the cow that was held by one of the coven members. Letting go of her, Father Blackwood picked up the knife from before, holding the handle out towards her.

"Honour your traditions, as we will expect you to honour ours."

With a smile Sigrún took the knife, looking over at her sister who had an equally bright smile on her face. Helheim stepped forward, taking her sister's hand. The cow did not move as the sisters advanced, however its eyes were as wide as the moon above them. Soothingly, Helheim patted the cow's head, whispering in old Norse the words of her old coven while Sigrún held the knife to the cow's throat. Eyes meeting, Helheim nodded at her sister who, without flinching, slashed the throat of the cow to the joy of the coven. The animal stumbled to its knees, its blood pooling in the bowl beneath it, before Helheim and the other coven member guided it onto its side. It twitched, let out a gutteral huff, and then fell silent, the remainder of its blood pooling around Helheim's feet. Straightening up, Sigrún stared at the blood that stained her hands. She was not afraid. If anything, she felt euphoric. 

That feeling stayed with her for the rest of the night.


	12. Nine // Strange Dreams

It had been weeks since Sigrún's dark baptism and during that time Sabrina and the older woman were closer than ever. They sat together in classes, Sabrina starting debates with their teachers where it was due while Sigrún would listen in silence, a small smile on her face as she watched the younger woman push the boundaries of the Academy. Other times it would be Sabrina who would watch Sigrún, the Norwegian witch bringing to each class a twist to the things they were learning. As it turns out, the practises of American witchcraft was quite different from those stemming from Norwegian culture, which were set deeply within a naturalistic backdrop that American witchcraft had left behind as the modern world caught up. 

However, Sabrina had seen the deep lines in Sigrún's forehead as they studied, could see the skin on her bottom lip peel off as her teeth made love to them. Despite her steady knowledge in Norwegian witchcraft taught to her by Helheim during their years on the run, her American knowledge left much to be desired.

"I am twenty-one years old and yet the Latin you speak so lovely is spoilt on my tongue. I am so stupid," Sigrún grumbled one day as the pair sat together for lunch, joined by Nicholas Scratch. The younger man shrugged, popping some food in his mouth before answering.

"I'm sure if you got the rest of us to speak old Norwegian, we'd be screwing up spells just as much as you have been," he said, raising an eyebrow when Sabrina stared at him sternly. She turned back to her friend, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"You're not stupid, Sigrún. It's just a slight language barrier. That's the only trouble you're having. Everything else you've been doing so well in. Don't beat yourself up over it," she soothed. Sigrún smiled slightly before it quickly fell away, a groan escaping her lips. "What?"

"Our oral exams. I am going to fail them if I don't get it right," she explained.

"Na, you won't," Nick said confidently. When the two girls looked up at him he continued. "You just need some extra tutoring. Go speak to Father Blackwood, he knows his latin better than any of us here. He'll help you when he's not busy."

While Sabrina hadn't been the happiest at that particular suggestion - everyone knew that she and Father Blackwood were not the biggest fans of one another - she had to admit that it would help Sigrún. So, with a little extra prompting from her, Sigrún did what was suggested.

When the oral test came around, Sigrún didn't fail - just.

"Helheim wants me to continue, as does Father Blackwood," Sigrún told Sabrina after Sigrún's shift at the movie theatre. "There will be more tests in the future, especially if I wish to continue my studies at a colleage."

"Do you?" Sabrina asked as the pair walked down the street. Sigrún shrugged.

"It would be nice. Or, at least, it's nice to plan the future," she replied, before smiling slightly. "You know, I think this is the longest Helheim and I have stayed in one place for a very long time. We moved so frequently after I turned sixteen, sometimes in the middle of the night. "It's dangerous now," Helheim would always say. But now it seems the danger is gone. I think, perhaps, our Far and his followers have left us alone."

But Sabrina knew the real reason why Helheim had uplifted the pair so many times. 

Since Sabrina and her family had caught Sigrún with that dead boy and a Dark Baptism had been arranged for her, no other deaths had occured in Greendale or any of the surrounding neighbourhoods. Newspapers wrote about how much safer the neighbourhoods were now, that perhaps the animal that had been killing all those people had been killed itself. Sometimes, though, Sabrina would look at Sigrún and dig past all the qualities she liked about her. She would look past those captivating maroon eyes, look past her wittiness and occasional goofy behaviour, look past the love she had to give, and think about that siren with the blood running down her face. She wondered if, behind all that, the siren was still there, waiting to feast once more. 

She came in the night. 

Not the siren, but not Sigrún either. It had been a shock to both of them because one minute Sabrina was lying in bed and listening to music, waiting for sleep to come take her, and the next a figure was standing in her bedroom.

"Sigrún?! What - what are you doing here?" Sabrina exclaimed, pulling her knees up in surprise. For some reason she found herself attempting to cover herself despite the fact that she was already covered. Sigrún, however, didn't seem to notice this. She was staring straight ahead, eyes wide and empty, as though the witch was off in a far away land of her own. Sabrina frowned, tilting her head to the side. "Sigrún?"

"I... I was having the strangest dream," Sigrún murmured, hand slowly rising as though to touch something in front of her. She paused, a small frown crossing her face as she lowered it once more. 

"No, not a dream," she said, and she finally looked at Sabrina with eyes that saw the younger woman. "It was a nightmare. I couldn't get back to sleep. Helheim isn't home. I think she's still out with your cousin."

"Yeah, I think Ambrose said something about staying out till dawn with your sister. I don't think they're back yet," Sabrina told her, slipping out of bed and approaching the woman carefully. Glancing towards the window she could see that - for now - it was empty of any sychopomps. "What happened?"

"I was in the forest," Sigrún said, looking out the window and peering into the dark landscape outside. "The moon was as large and as bright as it was on my dark baptism and it was glowing right above me. There were other people there. Some... Some of them were dead, Sabrina. Lying at my feet with their throats ripped out. The others... I had them in my hands, and I wanted to let go of them but I couldn't, and I remembering biting down hard on their throats, pulling away, tearing them out-"

"It was just a nightmare, Sigrún," Sabrina said quickly, interrupting the horrifying image Sigrún was bringing to mind that was indeed true. "N-Nothing more. Don't worry about it, you're okay and-and so are those people."

"Are they, though?" Sigrún asked, and for a moment it was as though she was there once more, eyes locking onto Sabrina and not letting go. Sabrina wondered if Sigun could see the truth inside her eyes. Taking a step towards her Sabrina nodded softly.

"Yes. Of course. It was just a dream."

For a moment neither woman said anything, both of them staring at each other in silence. By the window Sabrina heard the tell-tale sign of a psychopomp, its sparrow-like beak peaking at the window. But then Sigrún shook her head, breaking the picture, before smiling slightly as she chuckled.

"It felt so real, Sabrina," Sigrún stressed, and her eyes glazed over once more. "Like an old, faded memory. I could reach out, I think, and grab it from the fog-"

"You should stay over tonight Sigrún," Sabrina interrupted, glancing towards the psychopomp which had been joined by a friend. It didn't seem that Sigrún noticed that they were there. She didn't seem weary of them at all. "The psychopomps, Sigrún. Go home, and then come here. Properly. Maybe it'll bring you some comfort."

"Do - Do you think so? Is that okay?" Sigrún asked, looking over to her. Sabrina nodded.

"Of course. Come over. It's okay, Sigrún. It's like what you said. It's just a strange dream."

"Strange..." Sigrún repeated, before nodding slowly. "Yes. I was just having the strangest dream."

When she disappeared, so too did the psychopomps, and Sabrina was able to breathe a sigh of relief that her friend hadn't been whisked away by those creatures. However, she thought about what Sigrún had said as she slipped back into bed, a frown etched upon her face.  _If she remembers_ , she thought, thinking back to the moonlight and blood and anger on her face as Ambrose had approached her.  _If she remembers... What will happen?_

It was a question that Sabrina didn't want answered. So when Sigrún slipped silently into her room over half an hour later, the younger woman making room for her in her bed, she didn't say a word. They talked softly about the music playing, the films they liked best, their family, and then nothing at all. The next morning when they woke up, the events from the previous night just felt like a strange dream to them both.


	13. Ten // Notice

It had been a few weeks since Sigrun had stayed over at Sabrina's and since that night things had shifted between the two. It was an energy moreso than the activities they would do together. They were still attending classes together, still having lunch together, still taking walks together in the woods. But something had changed, it felt to the pair, and they weren't the only one who had realized this. Helheim had noticed it too.

It was in her sister's walk. There was more grace in her footsteps now, a willow-like movement that made it seem as though she were skimming the surface of the earth. There was even an added sway of the hips that made Helheim tilt her head when she first saw it, her younger sister walking side by side with Sabrina as both of their families attended a service together. 

She was also smiling more, not just when Sabrina was around, but when she wasn't. If her name was brought up in conversation, or something that reminded her of the other woman, or even if the thought of her crossed Sigrun's mind, Helheim saw that particular smile: soft, lips hesitantly opening to show the brightness of her teeth as it all became too much to contain. It made Helheim smile, but it also made her worry.

"How has your cousin been?" 

They were wrapped in each other's arms in the dark, Helheim's voice a whisper in the room. Shifting his weight slightly so he could see her better, Ambrose raised an eyebrow.

"An odd conversation starter given the activites we were just up to a few minutes ago," he replied, making Helheim giggle, gently pushing against his chest.

" _Kukskalle_ , answer my question. How has she been?"

"She's been good, I believe," Ambrose answered after allowing his chuckles to die down. "She's happier than what I've seen in a long time. It's nice to see after everything that happened during the thirteen, and just her dark baptism in general. It's nice to see her living like a teenager. Why do you ask?"

"I've noticed something in Sigrun," Helheim told him. She wasn't surprised when he pulled away slightly, looking down at her with concern. She knew that Ambrose was still a little weary of her sister given the fact she once threw him against a tree, and he seemed to have a little trouble overlooking her history of murder despite the fact she couldn't remember them. But she caressed his cheek all the same, shaking her head. "No, no, I do not mean to say that I have noticed something bad. It is all good things."

"Good things? Like what?" Ambrose asked. For a short moment Helheim didn't say anything, shrugging as a little blush appeared across her cheeks. "Come on, now. Don't hold out on me,  _mon amour_."

"She's happier too. She smiles more. She speaks lovingly of your cousin. They spend time together. More time than we may be lead to believe," Helheim said. When Ambrose looked at her for clarification on what she meant, she continued. "Some nights I hear Sigrun leave the house. She thinks that I am sleeping, but Jörmungandr tells me of her comings and goings. She isn't in a dream-like state like what used to happen. She knows what she is doing."

"Now that you say that, I have noticed that Leviathan has been unusually alert at certain times of the night," Ambrose added, running his hand through Helheim's dark hair. "Perhaps Sabrina has had a visitor in the night."

"Do you... you don't suppose they're..." Helheim trailed off, pointedly looking at herself and Ambrose to complete her sentence. The warlock looked down between them before quickly looking up at her, eyes wide. 

"I... No. No, I don't... I don't think...?" He swallowed, his face pinched up as he unfortunately imagined what it was that Helheim was implying. "In truth, I'd rather not imagine my cousin getting up to  _that_ sort of mischief."

"And I would rather not think about Sigrun doing the same, however..." Helheim sat up, looking down at Ambrose who put his hands behind his head, staring up at the witch. "Do you ever fear for them when it comes to the power of love? Not even Loki can protect us from its sting. I am worried that... perhaps they will hurt each other."

"You fear that sting?" Ambrose asked, sitting up beside her and resting a hand on hers. At first Helheim didn't say anything, looking down at their entwined hands with a slightly sad smile on her face. She noticed how he didn't ask if she was afraid for Sigrun and Sabrina, but for herself.  _He always knows._

"I fear heartbreak... not just for myself, but for Sabrina and Sigrun too," Helheim explained, looking back up at him. "To love is to open yourself up to injuries, if they come. Injuries lead to infection, infection to death. I don't want their hearts to die. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Ambrose did. He knew that Helheim wasn't just talking about romantic love between them or whatever was going on between his cousin and her sister. He knew that she was also talking about familial love too. 

"They have lost so much. I don't want them to lose each other too because of the complications that may come from their connection," Helheim continued. With a small smile Ambrose cupped her face, brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen in front of her bright blue eyes. 

"As a warlock who has spent the past seventy-five years locked up in one place, let me tell you that the chance to love is something that one should  _never_  give up, no matter what the outcome may be," he told her. "Take that love and feel it. Take that pain and  _feel_  it. That's all life is about. And if they love each other, then beautiful. And if they end up hurting each other, tragically beautiful indeed. We can't go through life not living, sweets, and to live you take the pleasure and the pain. So don't worry about them. Don't worry about us."

With another small smile he leaned forward, kissing her cheek gently before nudging her nose with his. Helheim let out a shuddering breath, locking eyes with his and allowing herself to mirror his smile. 

"You have a silver tongue, Mr Spellman," Helheim murmured, making him chuckle darkly as his hands slid down her cheek and neck, continuing their exploration down.

"Oh, Miss Loptrsdotter," he chuckled as he lay her down on the bed. "You have no idea what this tongue can do."

 


	14. Eleven // It Will Come Back

"Read this out loud then translate it."

Sigrún stared at the sentence on the board in front of her, eyebrows drawn in concentration as she tried to ignore the piercing gaze of Father Blackwood. Hesitantly, she began to speak, foot tapping against the ground anxiously.

"' _Dico si id credat eum erraturum esse_ ,' which... which means, um," Sigrún's eyes flickered towards Father Blackwood who didn't say a word as she stalled for a moment, unsure as to what the translation was. Looking back towards the board she cleared her throat. "I think it means, ' _If he believes this, he will be wrong.'_ "

For a moment Father Blackwood didn't say anything, instead walking towards the board and writing on it. Once he was done he stepped away and Sigrún couldn't help but let out a sigh of annoyance.

" _'I say that if he believes this he will be wrong_ '," Father Blackwood read from the board, turning around and facing Sigrún with arms crossed. "It's an easy enough sentence to translate, Sigrún."

"I know, Father Blackwood. I'm sorry," Sigrún huffed, running a hand through her dark hair. They had started her private lessons an hour ago, and what a torturous one it had been for the Norwegian witch. While her pronounciation had improved since she first started the classes, she still had trouble translating Latin to English. Personally, she didn't think it was needed, but Father Blackwood had told her time and time again that a witch had to understand everything about Latin if they wished to posess the power it had fully. 

"Have you been studying?" Father Blackwood asked, eyeing Sigrún carefully. The younger witch shrugged, turning her gaze towards the window. When Father Blackwood came to stand in front of the window she sighed again. "Sigrún."

"I do not wish to be doing this today," she muttered. Father Blackwood raised an eyebrow at her response. While he understood that Latin was her least favourite class, she had always tried her best in an attempt to catch up with the younger students. He sensed her pride was a main contributor to her efforts, but today it didn't seem to be around.

"What would you rather be doing instead?" he asked. Maroon eyes locked with his grey-blue ones and she raised an eyebrow. 

"Tell me about my mor."

Her sentence surprised the older warlock who pulled back slightly, a frown on his face. He hadn't been expecting it and Sigrún knew this too, watching him carefully. Clearing his throat he walked away from her, heading towards the small cabinet that housed his alcohol collection. That made her tilt her head slightly, the corner of her lips twitching upwards slightly.  _So it's going to be one of_ those _conversations._

"I'm curious as to why you ask," he said, pouring himself a drink before looking over at her, gesturing. After a slight hesitation - she had never been the biggest drinker in the world - Sigrún nodded, and the warlock walked back over to her with another drink in hand.

"You said you knew her when we first met," Sigrún said, taking her drink from his outstretched hand, closing her latin books with the other. "I assume that was before I was born?"

"Before she had even met your father, actually," he replied, taking a seat in his own chair. The way he said this made Sigrún think that he had wished her mor had never met her far. There was a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but she didn't think it had anything to do with her mor's untimely death. There was something else there too, the soft burning of embers catching light in the shadows of his face. 

"Studies?" Sigrún asked, taking a sip of her drink. Father Blackwood shook his head.

"We were in the same circle in England for a bit," he told her, a small smile appearing on his face. "Your mother was quite a talent."

"Helheim tells me often," Sigrún said with a light shrug. This wasn't what she wanted to know. She knew the talents her mor possessed. Spells, summonings, hexes, seances being her specialty. She knew that her mor had been a great witch. What Sigrún wanted was to know more. "I do not care for that. Tell me what she was like before me, before Helheim. Before she became mor."

"You wish to know Rowena Parker?" Father Blackwood asked, one eyebrow raised. Sigrún nodded. "What can I say about her which you don't know? I'm sure you know her as well as I ever did, better perhaps. Because I am sure that - just because she became a mother - she never lost her kindness or her power or her alluring nature-"

"Alluring?" Sigrún repeated. That was a word she never would've placed on her mor. Looking back into her memories her mor didn't seem the type. Beautiful, yes, and obviously kind, but alluring? Like a siren in the ocean? She couldn't see it. Swallowing his drink Father Blackwood nodded slightly, setting his glass on the table. 

"Yes, alluring. It was... well, it was captivating. She knew how to take control of a room, how to captivate everyone around her. It could, perhaps, be a reason as to why your father became so suspicious of her later in life and started preaching those very untrue rumors about her. Everyone admired her moreso than they ever admired Loptr -"

"Did  _you_  admire her, Father Blackwood?" Sigrún asked. A noted pause of silence fell over the pair, eyes meeting across the table. Sigrún did not allow herself to look away from his sharp gaze, both faces carved like stone as they waited for the other to crack. In the end it was Father Blackwood who had to look away.

"From a distance," he muttered. "But Rowena made it very clear to everyone who admired her that she only had eyes for Loptr once they met. I don't think he ever felt completely the same about her, though."

"You do not think they loved each other?" Sigrún asked. 

"No, I think that Rowena loved Loptr. I just do not believe that Loptr loved Rowena. Not as much as he loved the Dark Lord," he told her before looking back at her, eyebrows drawn together. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," Sigrún murmured, looking down into her glass, the red liquid still and flat inside it. "I just wished to know a little more about the witch who bore me and the warlock who tried to have me murdered. I just wished to know... to know who I am more like, and if... if love existed."

"If love existed," Lord Blackwood echoed, and the older warlock let out a little chuckle that made Sigrún look up at him with a frown. "I don't doubt its existance. I do, however, doubt its use when saved for one person. We are a little more... open and giving with our love."

"Is it love? Or is it just lust we give freely?" Sigrún asked. "I think that too often the two are confused with one another."

"You speak like a human," Father Blackwood laughed, making Sigrún want to chuck her drink at him. She didn't, though, instead grasping it tightly and pursing her lips. "Love and lust, they're both the same to us, and neither are bad together or apart. Either way, Sigrún, it's not in our nature to choose one person to love."

"Humans do," Sigrún argued, and a flash of blonde hair appeared in her mind as she said the words. 

"Humans are not witches. Their way is different to ours, and our way is to love freely with as many as we so choose."

"Could a witch choose one, though?" Sigrún asked, and she was a little surprised to find that her voice had fallen to a whisper. Frowning, Lord Blackwood tilted his head to the side, his fingers tapping gently against the wood of his desk.

"Your mother did."

"She died," Sigrún said softly. Father Blackwood raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering up to hers.

"Well, then," he said simply. Sigrún nodded slightly, setting her drink on the table and standing up. She had had enough for one night.

Besides, she had a date.

//

"I had an intriguing talk with Father Blackwood during Latin today."

They were going to have a proper dinner in town after their movie, but as they walked back from the theatre they had decided that they would rather just be alone and away from the public eye. They had noticed as they walked that a few of the older folk in town had been staring at their intertwined hands, a habit the girls had picked up that they hadn't been able to break - or, at least, didn't want to. 

So there they were an hour later, a box of half eaten pizza sitting between them on the floor of Sabrina's room, a soft hum of music playing from the corner of her room. Stretched out on her bed was Salem, the cat snoozing quietly while the two girls talked.

"Really? What about?" Sabrina asked, biting into another slice of pizza while Sigrún picked up another piece for herself. 

"My mor and... and love. Or lust. I don't know, he said that they were the same thing," Sigrún stated, her face souring at the thought. Sabrina laughed, rolling her eyes.

"That warlock wouldn't know love if it hit him between the eyes," Sabrina said, and the comment made Sigrún chuckle before she grew quiet, lowering her slice.

"I believe that Father Blackwood once harbored feelings for my mor," she said. Sabrina frowned, putting her food down and trying to push away the horror that the sentence brought her. It was bad enough that her aunt was with the warlock, she couldn't imagine how uncomfortable it would be knowing he had a thing for her mom. 

"Did he love her?" Sabrina asked softly, looking at Sigrún with concern. To her surprise the older witch let out a bark of a laugh, shaking her head so that her brown hair fell over her shoulders, framing her face.

"Love is useless according to him," she replied, making Sabrina pull back with an incredulous look on her face.

"Love isn't useless! It's..." she trailed off, biting her bottom lip as she thought. Sigrún stared at her expectantly, curious to know what thoughts were passing through the blonde girl's head.

"It's what?"

"I mean, when I was in love with Harvey, I thought that it was one of the best qualities I had," Sabrina admitted, the thought of her ex sending a dull pain through her heart. She didn't admit it out loud, but she had actually expected it to hurt a little more. She knew the reason why it didn't though, but she wasn't about to say it out loud. 

"Loving him?" Sigrún said, and Sabrina nodded, a sad smile on her face.

"I would've done anything for him. I - I did do anything for him. In the end it - it ruined our relationship, but the love..." Sabrina trailed off, looking up at Sigrún who was sitting opposite her, maroon eyes staring intently at her. It felt like she was looking into two dark blood moons and the younger witch swallowed. "I think love can save people. I think it can make people better."

For a moment neither witch spoke, the pair looking at each other in silence. Swallowing and trying to ignore the flush of red that was beginning to rise in her cheeks, Sabrina spoke.

"Have... have you ever been in love?"

"I... I wouldn't know. Maybe?" Sigrún questioned, licking her lips. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage and wondered if Sabrina could hear it. The thought made her flush bright red with embarassment and she added a little chuckle to the end of her sentence, one that Sabrina joined in with. 

"Maybe?" Sabrina repeated, her giggle dying. Hesitantly she reached out, pushing Sigrún's hair behind her ear and making the witch still, eyes watching as she slowly removed her hand. Before Sabrina could rest it back on the floor beside her there was a hand wrapped around it, catching it mid air. Sabrina looked at the point of contact, running her eyes up Sigrún's lean arms and towards her face that looked nervous, hesitant, almost afraid. There was no image whatsoever of the creature Sabrina had seen in the woods all that time ago. Now, all she saw was Sigrún.

"Maybe..." Sigrún whispered. Slowly, hesitantly, the pair stretched forward towards each other. This close Sigrún was sure that Sabrina could hear her rattling heartbeat. Before she could allow herself to acknowledge the embarressment or sudden fear that was stretching over her, though, their lips made contact in the middle and she was kissing her. 

Whether it lasted a few seconds or hours, both girls couldn't be sure. All they knew was that both women had soft lips that they hadn't experienced before, and when Sabrina ran a hand through Sigrún's long, dark hair the older witch almost let out a soft moan. There's was a swirling desire moving in the pits of each girl's stomach, wanting to rise, but instead they let it simmer and wait. 

_Wait._

"Wait."

Too soon the kiss was over and Sigrún was pulling away, gasping as though she had just broken through water to breathe. Sabrina frowned, sitting back on the heels of her feet and looking at Sigrún with worry.

"Sigrún? What - what's wrong?"

But the older witch did not answer. Rubbing her head she stood up on two shakey legs, wincing slightly. Sabrina followed suit, hands gently clasping Sigrún's elbows to steady her. 

"I'm sorry, Sabrina," Sigrún murmured, and she pulled away from the other witch who stared at her in confusion, watching as she grabbed her bag and jacket.

"Sigrún? Where are you going? What's wrong, I don't understand -"

"It's not your fault, it's - it's just not the right time," Sigrún explained, but Sabrina noticed the way her eyes wouldn't meet hers. "I have to wait."

"Wait? The right time? I - I can accept that, that's fine, Sigrún, but you don't have to go so soon -"

"I must. I'm sorry, Sabrina," Sigrún said, and before Sabrina could say anything else the witch was out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Sabrina standing alone. Looking out the window Sabrina watched as Sigrún walked down the porch steps and down the dirt road, her figure growing smaller the further she walked until the darkness swallowed her whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Here for your consumption, you unholy witches and warlocks >:) Hope y'all enjoy...


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